Jedi Posse
by Alex Carter
Summary: 300 Years Before The Phantom Menace: On the fringes of Republic space, a once peaceful world stands on the brink of lawlessness. A rough-around-the-edges group of Jedi is assembled to restore law and order. (Think Tombstone meets Star Wars)
1. Chapter 1: Come Together

**Come Together**

Iesha knelt at the door of the lift. She kept her eyes closed although she knew that at any moment the doors would pop open and she would be met with a wall of blaster fire. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind, but it kept going back to the ascending lift. She exhaled slowly, "Remember what Master Granger has taught you." She had almost completed her last deep breath, when the door sprung open. Focusing more on keeping her eyes shut than the movement of her body, the hilt of her lightsaber jumped into her hand as the doors parted. The green blade shot into the air to meet the oncoming assault of red lines. By only concentrating on her breathing, she did not even crack her eyelids as she effortlessly swung her blade with a precision that only hours of practice and meditation could bring.

She only felt herself breath as the saber deflected the laser blasts back at their respective origins. One after another of Zulon's henchmen fell at her feet, but the blasts never seemed to stop, finally she felt the entire room shake. Everyone, but she, was sent to the floor and still the blasts hit her blade. She felt another tremor along with the commanding shout, "Enough!" Her eyes popped open for the first time in the battle to meet her master's. Granger was standing at the other end of the room, with both arms extended, surrounded by fallen thugs. "Which one of you is Darklon?" Granger barely whispered, but his voice boomed like thunder in the minds of everyone in the room. The few conscious thugs remained quiet. One, barely awake in the corner slowly raised his blaster from beneath the corpse of a fallen comrade. Before he could get it to eye level, he felt the blaster get snatched from his hand and watched it as it flew across the room into the hands of the Jedi Master.

With the corner thug staring into the barrel of his own weapon, Granger asked again, "Do tell me which is Darklon."

The thug slowly pointed to the middle of the room, where a wounded body was crawling towards an air vent. Granger extended his empty hand towards the would-be fugitive. The body flipped over and floated slightly off the ground. "You are Darklon?"

"Go to hell, Jedi," the wounded man spat. He then felt his throat tighten. He floated high off the ground and closer to the Jedi.

When he reached eye-level, Granger asked again, "Are you Darklon?"

"Yes," he managed. "

Darklon's body dropped to the floor at the feet of the Jedi. "Then in the name of the Jedi Council of the Galactic Republic, you are under arrest."

...

Stuffings dropped his report on the Prime Minister's desk. "Another shipment was stolen last night."

Prime Minister Delfo rubbed her temples and sank a little lower in her seat. "Yes, I'm very aware of that. The Magistrate is supposed to be handling these incidents, now."

Stuffings twisted his mouth to hold back the string of obscenities forming in his mind. "The Magistrate is probably lining his pocket with the payoff as we speak. You have to do something!"

"What?" Delfo demanded. "I reached out to the Republic. Sending the Magistrate was their idea of a solution."

"Because the Magistrate has family connections in the underworld and since he has been here they have worked to bring their rivals in for a piece of the profit, the Magistrate reports peace and prosperity on the once lawless world of Syllian and they think all is well."

"At least the violence has died down since he has been here," the Prime Minister retorted.

"Because only the Magistrate's enemies die now, but normal citizens can't do business. Good people are on the verge of poverty… You must reach out again."

"And make myself the enemy of the Magistrate? I'm sure my assassination would get the Republic's attention….."

"The Planetary Council is going to push for a vote of no confidence if you don't take action soon."

Delfo sighed. "No, they won't. Our beloved Magistrate controls enough of them. Something like that would also signal that he doesn't quite have the grip that he claims and attract attention."

Stuffings stared blankly at the woman that he had been appointed to advise, "Something must be done and done soon." With that thought he left the Prime Minister's office.

Delfo sat in silence for nearly an hour. It hurt her to even think. There was one hope left. It was a card that she hoped she would never have to play, but it was her only hope. Few of her friends knew her family secret. When she was 8, her infant brother was taken from their family. Although she did not understand at the time, her parents assured her that it was an honor. The Jedi had detected the Force living within their young son. As was their custom, they took the child with the family's blessing to live and train at the Jedi Temple. Delfo barely had any contact with Tarayzin as an adult, but Tarayzin had promised that if the Prime Minister ever needed anything, that he would be there. Delfo sighed. She was not even sure the Jedi believed in doing personal favors. She touched the intercom button. "Get me someone at the Jedi Council."

...

"Wake up, sleepy head," Kar'tina's sweet voice pulled Hannibal from his slumber.

He rubbed his face, "How long was I out?"

"Only a couple of hours. I was hoping you were ready to go another round…"

Hannibal grinned, "Gotta do what I gotta do…."

Suddenly, there was a disturbance in the Force and in the living room. "Kary!" The deep and obviously angry voice boomed from behind the door along with whatever furniture was in its way. "Where is he, Kary? I know you are both here!"

"Poodoo! It's…."

"Slindo? About time," Hannibal hopped out of bed and fumbled through his bag by the nightstand.

"How did you know that?" Kar'tina demanded. "Wait, you knew I was married?"

Hannibal rolled his eyes as he gripped his lightsaber. He turned to face the door as Kar'tina let out a squeal. "What are you? A Jedi or something?"

Hannibal rolled his eyes again as he raised his arm and extended the blade just in time for the door to slide open. Slindo nearly stuck his nose into the tip of the blue beam. "Mr. Slindo," Hannibal's voice boomed with authority. "Nice to see you again. You are under arrest."

...

Argile grinned with pride as his guards escorted the prisoner to the bridge. At a nearby console, a chief leaned into a crewman. "Oh, the captain will have fun with her. He has a thing for Nautolans."

"Ewwww," the crewman respond and went back to his diagnostics.

Argile approached his prey nearly bursting with joy. He reached out, grabbing her chin and raised her head to look into her eyes, "I've never had a Jedi before. We are going to have such fun."

The Captain's twisted delight was interrupted by the chief, "Sir, our engines have shut down."

"So fix them," Argile shot back, his eyes never moving from his prisoner.

Numa lowered her head as the pirate slid his hand down her neck to her chest. She closed her eyes and the entire ship shot into light speed. The crew sprawled to the floor, but she remained standing. The chief screamed, "Sir, the hyperdrive just activated."

"I see that, you idiot!" Argile yelled, rising to his feet. "What are you doing? Shut it down!"

"I can't!" the pilot yelled.

Argile pulled his blaster and spun to face his prisoner. "You're doing this aren't you?" Before he could squeeze the trigger, the crew was jolted to the floor again.

As they struggled to regain their bearings, a droid's voice boomed over the loudspeaker. "This is Republic Airspace Control. Identify yourself."

"Where the hell are we," Argile barked at the pilot.

The chief leaned over the pilot's shoulder and turned pale. "Coruscant," he could barely whisper.

"Get us out of here!" Argile screamed.

"The engines will not come online, sir," the chief began to choke up.

The droid's voice boomed again, "You have ten seconds to identify yourself or you will be fired upon."

"Raise the shields!" Argile barked in vain.

"We can't," the chief turned even whiter.

Argile faced his prisoner again. "Numa raised her eyes to meet his, "If I were you captain, I would surrender."

...

Finly struggled his way through the ventilation shaft. "Coulda sworn the specs said these things were wider…" He was so frustrated that he was not sure if he was thinking or mumbling by that point, but he realized that he was making quite the racket and that every thug in the building would know he was coming if he did not hold it down.

Just as he decided to keep quiet, he heard a low voice coming out of the vent ahead of him, "When do we get to get rid of these three?"

"When the boss gives the word," Finly eased himself up to peek out of the vent. He saw the two guards standing in front of the captive princesses who were seated on the floor.

One of the guards sniffed at the oldest of the princesses, "Can't we have a little fun until he gets her?"

"Not until the boss gives the word…."

Finly dropped through the vent. The green blade of his lightsaber flashed to life almost as soon as his feet hit the floor. He slashed off the hand (and blaster) of the first guard and buried his saber deep within the chest of the other. The dying guard stared blankly into the eyes of the grinning Jedi. The first clutched his wrist and whispered in horror, "You idiot." Finly closed his blade, but before he could respond, the impaled guard's left arm dropped limply to his side. Out of his hand rolled a pressure release thermal detonator.

Finly barely had time to whisper, "Poodoo…." Thrusting his arms forward, he used a Force push to send the detonator, the two guards and the ensuing blast into the back wall. Finly opened his eyes to realize that he and the princesses were safe.

"That was impressive, Master Jedi," one of the princesses stared blankly at the spot where the wall used to be.

Somewhat amazed himself, Finly offered, "No problem you highness. All in a day's….." The loud creak interrupted his attempt at humility. Finly quickly remembered the specs of the building and realized that the central support was behind the wall that he just sent the explosion through. "Poodoo…."

The flustered knight spun on his heels. He grabbed the youngest princess. Throwing her on his back, he grabbed the other two with each arm and ran for the giant window opposite the wall.

Realizing where they were headed, the princess under his right arm screamed, "Where the hell are you….."

The shattering glass answered and cut off her question. All four screamed as they flew across a busy expressway. Flying vehicles veered off, some into each other as they dodged the descending escapees. Fortunately, the building across the expressway was much shorter. As the roof rushed up to meet them, Finly pushed the ladies away from him and attempted to slow their descent with the Force. It did not work nearly as well as he hoped and they all hit the roof much harder than any of them would have liked.

When they finished rolling across the roof and gathered their senses. One of the princess looked back across the expressway at the collapsing building. "That was some rescue," she offered rubbing her head and bottom without really soothing either.

Finly gulped nervously, "We need to get moving. This was supposed to be a stealth mission." As they began to run, Finly began to imagine what the Council would have to say about this.

...

Ka'Lay sipped his drink. "If that Jedi doesn't show up soon, I'm going to be the one looking for him," he thought. No sooner had the thought passed, that Hector came confidently strolling up to the corner table.

"Ka'Lay, allow me to introduce myself, I'm…."

"Hector, Jedi Knight, I know," Ka'Lay read the Jedi's confusion. "You've been after my partner and me for a month. I know everything about you. You are only standing in front of me now because I let you finally find me."

Hector rolled his eyes, "That's what they all say." He waved his hand in front of the mercenary, "You are tired of running. You will surrender to me now."

"Yeah….. I don't think so….."

"Well, let me rephrase that," Hector's lightsaber flew from his belt to his hand. The blue blade flashed and nearly nicked Ka'Lay's chin. "You will surrender to me now."

"I don't think so Jedi," Hector felt the barrel of a blaster in the base of his skull. Balousk growled, "We have no quarrel with you Jedi. Now drop that saber and leave with your life."

Hector closed the blade and paused after putting in on his belt. "Yeah….. I think I'll hold on to it."

"Pretty cocky for a Jedi," Balousk sniffed. "I'm sure you know as much about us as we know about you. You know we have a dozen or so Jedi under our belts….."

"And you are both wanted men, but I'm not here about that. I only want information."

"We're not in the information business," Balousk retorted hostilely.

"But I hear you are the guys to ask about Hay'leen."

Balousk's eyes met Ka'Lay's, who noticeably gulped. "Aren't you a little too old to be chasing bedtime stories?"

"So your position is that he isn't real?"

"That's what I hear," Balousk sneered obviously growing impatient.

"And I would have agreed with you until I ran into him."

Ka'Lay broke through his obvious nervousness, "_You_ had a run-in with Hay'leen and are still alive?" The two mercenaries locked eyes again and burst into laughter.

Balousk finally lowered the blaster, "I like you Jedi."

Hector reached into his robes and pulled out a small, slightly scratched token. He held it up to the light where the others could see it.

Both men broke their laughter. Ka'Lay gulped again and with only a slight shakiness in his voice offered, "That's Hay'leen's mark alright. How did you get it?"

"And still live," Balousk completed his partner's thought.

"I acquired it from one of his victims," Hector replied darkly. "Now I can offer you immunity for any help you can offer….."

Hector's negotiating was broken off by the beeping of his comlink. "Jedi Hector, the Council demands you to report to Coruscant immediately."

"Duty calls gentleman. Think about it and I will get back to you."

...

"Get in front of the boss!" someone screamed. "There must be a whole squad out there."

The ten guards formed a wall around their boss with blasters drawn. "Shoot whoever comes through that door.

The fighting outside sounded as though it died down. Just as one of the guards was about to suggest that one of them go look, the reinforced steel door began to creak. It buckled as though being pushed in from the outside. It finally gave way and slammed into the wall of guards taking out the six on the left. The remaining guards blindly blasted into the smoke that came billowing into the room. After nearly a minute they paused to assess the situation. A dark silhouette holding a blue blade stepped just to the edge of the smoke. The remaining guards unleashed another volley of blasts. The blue blade effortlessly deflected each one back into the remaining guards. A woman's hand extended from the smoke and a Force push sent the boss slamming into the back wall, his blaster tumbling a few feet from him.

When the boss collected his senses, he had a blue blade at his neck. "I know, I know, I'm under arrest."

"So says the Republic, but I haven't decided yet," the soft yet firm voice clarified the boss's predicament.

He looked into the eyes of his assailant, "You are a feisty one, huh? And pretty as you can be…."

"Back talk me again and I will only be leaving with your head," the Jedi reiterated.

"Too bad they want me alive, huh?" the boss and the Jedi's eyes both glanced at the blaster, just out of his reach.

"I'll tell them you resisted," she glanced at the blaster again. "Go for it….. Please."

Ten minutes later Myriam was back in her shuttle plotting a course for Coruscant. A voice came over the intercom, "Come in Myriam. How did it go?"

"Outstanding," Myriam replied as the ship made the jump to hyperspace.

"Great, then you have Tyrian in your custody?"

Myriam glanced at the sack in the co-pilot's chair. "Well, part of him."

The voice let out a sigh, "Your assignment was to bring him in alive."

"He resisted," was all that Myriam offered.

"That's been happening to a lot of your targets lately. Anyway, the Council wants to see you. I think you have a new assignment already."

...

"Essentially, this is a collection of our trouble makers," Master Oo'looku shook his head as he stared at the images flashing on the table. "Except for Numa maybe…."

"I actually think she is a little too by-the-book for this assignment," another member of the committee chimed in.

Master Tarayzin sighed, "Good she can keep the others grounded. Now who should we get to lead this motley crew?"

The Jedi Masters scratched their collective heads in silence for quite some time before Oldofo, the eldest member present spoke up, "Master Tarayzin, you brought this matter to our attention. I have a feeling you already had someone in mind."

Tarayzin grinned, "There seems like only one real choice to me, Master Granger."

"Granger! As many times as he's crossed the Council! I can't support that decision," Oo'looku spoke up.

"He is unorthodox, but he is successful. And has trained many a successful padawan. He is the perfect leader for this sort of mission and to pull together such an odd assortment of characters," Tarayzin defended his selection.

"'Odd assortment' is putting it lightly. Finly just barely escaped being removed from the Order four days ago. The reason Master Yoda isn't in this discussion right now is because he had to go clean up that mess…."

"Master Finly did save the members of the royal family…." Another committee member offered.

"Which is why he was only censured and not removed from his duties," Oo'looku continued. "I just can't get behind this."

"Noted." Tarayzin spoke up. "Does anyone else have an objection?"

The Jedi Masters looked around at each other, but no one offered further debate. "Then my dear brothers, we shall assemble this task force and entrust them to the Prime Minister of Syllian as soon as possible. Master Oo'looku, you will be charged with the supervision and evaluating Master Granger and his team," Oldofo affirmed.

What?!" Oo'looku and Tarayzin were caught off guard.

"Master Tarayzin," Oldofo reassured both the masters, "you are too close to this matter. And Master Oo'looku, I feel your objections will keep the team and its leader in check should they stray too far from the norm."

"Then it is settled!" one of the other masters announced with enthusiasm. "Let us contact Master Granger immediately.

...

Granger and Iesha had finally wrapped up there affairs and were on a ship back to Coruscant. They had not exactly debriefed, but Iesha knew it was coming. She decided to get them started. "So Master, as assignments go, that wasn't so bad, huh?"

With his eyes still closed, Granger breathed in slowly, "Tell me young padawan, in the last battle with Darklon, and the henchmen why was you first option to pull your lightsaber?"

Iesha was put a little off balance by the question, "Well, it is a Jedi's weapon…."

"Very true, but is your confidence in the Force on in that green beam of light?"

"Isn't it the Force that enables me to do so well with that 'green beam of light' as you put it?"

"Yes," Granger conceded, "but what I want you to realize is that your 'weapons' are as vast as the Force itself. We actually limit what we can do, when we channel it all through our lightsaber."

Iesha was taken aback, "I never really saw it that way."

She leaned back in her seat and almost dozed off when a message came through the communicator, "Master Granger."

"Master Oldofo," Granger responded, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"As soon as you get back Coruscant, you and your padawan should report to the Council. We have a new and interesting assignment for you."

**The End**

_Next: A New Sheriff in Town_


	2. Chapter 2: New Sheriff in Town

**New Sheriff in Town**

Iesha tried to wait patiently. Her Master was enduring a last minute briefing with the Council. She was waiting outside the ship to greet the members of the team. This was an incredible opportunity. Not only was she being trained by one of the greatest masters, but she now had the chance to see up close and work with other Jedi Knights. Master Granger made her research all of them. Some of them were among the best.

"Greetings padawan," Numa interrupted Iesha's daydreaming.

Based on her research, it made perfect since that Numa would be the only one to show up on time. She was one of the more skilled and experienced of the team, but seemed to be the one that both Iesha and Master Granger had the most concerns about working with. "Greetings, Master Numa…."

"I'm not a Master…yet," Numa corrected.

Iesha eyed her new acquaintance carefully, "But all Jedi refer to each other as Master, correct?"

"An unfortunate habit that we have developed over recent centuries, but in the old days, the title was only allowed to those who earned it," Numa scanned her surroundings. "I am the first to arrive?"

"Yes, Mas….. ummm…."

"Numa will do," she smiled. "I will go find a good place on the ship."

A few minutes later, Hector was approaching the docking bay. A voice from behind got his attention, "You don't get points for getting there before the rest of us."

Hector turned to see a familiar face, "Hannibal! They pulled you in for this?"

"Yep, they wanted the best I suppose," Hannibal grinned in response. Noticing Hector's stifled laugh, he added, "Don't act like you haven't been thinking the same thing." They both laughed at that. Before Hector could offer a response, Hannibal noticed Iesha standing in front of the ship. "And who do you think that is?"

"Granger's padawan, I guess," Hector mused.

"Maybe I can teach here a few things during our down time," Hannibal's grin got even bigger.

Hector snickered and shook his head, "Do you still use mind tricks to get girls?"

"Only when it's appropriate for the mission," Hannibal corrected.

"When would that ever be appropriate?"

"Oh you would be surprised," As they reached Iesha, Hannibal offered the initial greeting. Taking her hand in his he bowed and kissed the back of it. "Greetings, Master."

A little uneasy, but also slightly flattered, Iesha slowly eased her hand out of his, "I'm only a padawan, Master."

"Well then, padawan, I look forward to showing you some….. techniques that I have perfected," Hannibal grinned while Hector pretended to examine the ship.

Iesha was no longer flattered. "I'm assigned to Master Granger. And attachment is forbidden to the Jedi," she answered coldly.

"Oh, I don't get attached," Hannibal smirked.

Hector decided he should intercede before Iesha pulled her lightsaber and severed something that Hannibal would not want enhanced with cybernetics, "I'm Hector by the way," he extended his hand, "Pay no attention to Master Hannibal. He likes boys anyway."

Hannibal gave Hector the coldest look he could give without Force choking him, "You wish, don't you?"

"Jedi," was the only word Myriam offered as she approached the informal debate. Hannibal's jaw dropped as he turned to greet her.

"Master Myriam," Iesha nodded in greeting becoming slightly insecure at the sight of her beauty and in her commanding presence.

"Has Master Granger arrived yet?"

"He's having one last briefing with the Council before our departure," Iesha dropped her eyes slightly in response.

"Very well," Myriam nodded and slowly made her way up the ramp.

Hector and Hannibal both turned as their eyes followed her up the ramp. "So that's Myriam," Hector whispered.

Hannibal still barely able to move his mouth, managed, "Do you know her?"

"Only by reputation," Hector explained. "She was trained by Master Yoda himself."

"Technically we were all trained by Yoda," Hannibal reminded his teammates.

"Yeah, but only Youngling training. She was his padawan."

Hannibal and Iesha were even further in awe. "A Jedi should not be easily impressed with names and reputations," Master Granger's voice broke in from behind them.

"Greetings, Master," Iesha bowed slightly. Granger wasn't as impressive a sight to Hannibal and Hector as Myriam, but they both had heard of him. He was an enigma to many Jedi, powerful, reliable, dependable, and a great teacher, but viewed as somewhat of a rebel in the eyes of many.

Granger greeted both of his new team members. "It will be an honor to work with both of you.

"And ours to work with you Master," Hannibal responded. Both of the younger knights had not really known what to expect from Granger, but he carried an inviting air that put them both at ease.

"Well then," the team leader clasped his hands, "We have a long flight ahead of us. Let's board."

"Ummmmm….. Master," Iesha hesitated. "Master Finly has yet to arrive."

"Oh, Finly's part of this crew too?" Hector asked. "I've worked with him a couple of times. Good guy, but a little…..odd."

"How so?" Granger inquired.

"Well, let's just say he's one of the few Jedi I know that enjoy his rotations in the archives," Hector explained. "Can answer almost any obscure question you can think of though. Although, he's kind of obsessed with the Sith…."

Master Granger was visibly agitated at the mention of the Sith and Iesha became noticeably uncomfortable at her master's reaction, "Just what we need. I need to go prep the ship. Make sure Finly promptly finds his way on board whenever he decides to show." Granger stomped up the ramp.

Entering the ship, Granger saw Numa and Myriam sitting across from each other in awkward silence. At least it was awkward for Numa. She appeared ready to make conversation, but Myriam cleaned her lightsaber as though no one else were around. "Fellow Jedi," Granger greeted the ladies as they arose to greet their new team leader. He bowed slightly to Myriam. He and Numa leaned in close and kissed each other on both cheeks. "It has been too long, Numa."

"It has Master. I'm looking forward to working with you again."

Granger turned again to Myriam who had already reclaimed her seat and returned to her cleaning. "And Master Myriam, it is an honor to meet you and have you as part of our team."

"Likewise Master," her words were sincere, but she only looked up for a second, then refocused on her lightsaber.

"I'll be in the cockpit if anyone needs me," Granger dismissed himself and continued forward.

After a few more minutes of semi-awkward silence, the rest of the team ascended the ramp and took seats. Iesha stopped at a com panel before taking hers "Master, Jedi Finly has arrived and we have boarded."

"Very well," Granger's voice answered. "We'll be off shortly."

After a few minutes the ship was off and shooting through hyperspace. The team members uncomfortably glanced around the passenger's hold and at each other. Occasionally, someone would begin to say something, but quickly change their minds when they realized all attention was focused on them. Finally, Hannibal had all he could take. "So padawan, tell us what we need to know about your master."

Everyone, even Myriam leaned in to hear her response. "What do you mean," was all Iesha could manage in response.

"I mean," Hannibal started, "what's he like? We've all heard about him. How he doesn't always follow the Jedi code, kinda has his own way of doing things."

"He's brilliant," Iesha responded. "And he follows nothing but the Jedi code. He just doesn't always agree with the council."

"Which is really the only reason he's not already on it," Numa added.

"Is it true what they say about his former master?" Finly inquired.

Iesha became visibly uncomfortable, but tried to downplay it, "What do you mean?"

Finly glanced around at his teammates, "Oh c'mon, they say Master Wagalog was killed by the Sith."

Everyone leaned in a little closer at the mention of the ancient Jedi enemy. After a few seconds, Hannibal remembered some basic history and objected, "Wait, the Sith? That would make him like 1000 years old or something."

"Not at all," Finly explained. "There have always been rumors that the Sith survived. Master Wagalog believed in a particular theory known as the Rule of Two….."

"No one knows who or why Master Wagalog was killed. And Master Granger does not share his Master's view of the Sith. And if I were you, I wouldn't bring them up around him too often," Iesha interrupted.

The silence resumed for a moment before Hector remembered something, "Hey Fin, have you ever heard of a baddie named…"

Granger reentered the room from the cockpit, "Greetings again everyone," He eyed Finly carefully, "Master Finly so glad you could join us." Finly grinned awkwardly in response.

"Our mission," the Jedi Master began, "is to restore law and order to the Syllian system. Syllian is the last outpost in official Republic space just before the Outer Rim. Somehow, the organized crime of the Outer Rim has spilled into Syllian. Our job is two-fold. Restore order to Syllian and fight corruption within its government. We may also work our way out into the Outer Rim and tackle some of the organizations at their roots." Granger paused and let his words sink into each team member. "Our goal is to have the law and order of the Republic spilling into the Outer Rim by the time we leave, instead of the crime and corruption spilling into Republic territory."

"The best defense is a good offense," Hector thought aloud.

"Sounds fun," Myriam added.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Being on the edge of the Outer Rim, Syllian took most ships several days to reach. The Jedi transport was no exception. During their travel, the team members read briefs and reports. Hector and Hannibal, having gone through youngling training together, caught up on the passing years. Occasionally, the old friends would include Finly in their joking, but he was content to read copies of archives that he brought. Numa, being the only one who had previously worked with Master Granger would sometimes join him and the pilots in the cockpit, but mostly spent her time reading reports and meditating. Iesha tried to meditate on her own, but her brain was scattered at the thought of this mission. Had it not been for her guided time with Ganger she probably would have spent most of the trip listening to the guys joke around and tell stories. Myriam kept to herself. When she was not cleaning her lightsaber, she was meditating. This did not go unnoticed particularly by Granger who carefully observed the team as a whole and each member individually.

When the ship finally reached its destination, Granger, Numa, and Iesha promptly reported to the Prime Minister while the others found their quarters. "Master Jedi," Prime Minister Delfo rose to meet Granger. "It is truly an honor to have someone of your reputation among us." She turned to Numa, "And you as well, Jedi Numa." The Prime Minister greeted the more experienced Jedi formally and nodded to the padawan.

"Don't honor us yet, madam Prime Minister," Granger interjected. "Tell us how we can serve you and your system."

The Jedi had already read most of the Prime Minister's brief in their reports, but they endured as she passionately spoke of Syllian's grand past and its present turmoil. After nearly an hour, Delfo seemed to die down. Granger spoke up, "Master Oo'looku charged me with a two-fold assignment, weeding out corruption from within and taking on the organized crime in the system and surrounding areas.'

Delfo sighed, "You should talk to the Republic Magistrate." She glanced at her doorway to be sure it was empty. "He _is_ corruption in our system. Actually, he has already requested to meet with you and your team."

"Then I would meet with him immediately," Granger rose followed closely by Numa and Iesha.

Before he reached the door, Delfo called out to him, "Master Jedi." Granger turned just in time to catch the communicator that she tossed through the air. "Communicate directly and only with me and Master Oo'looku on this matter… please."

"Of course," Granger bowed and departed to join the rest of the team.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The entire team converged on the Magistrate's office. An assistant came out of the office to meet the Jedi. "Master Granger, Magistrate Lopez requests that you wait here for a min….."

The assistant was brushed aside by the Jedi Master. "This is pressing Republic business and the Magistrate requested that we report immediately." Hector and Hannibal glanced at each other with a stunned grin. Myriam, half-way expecting some excitement worked her way to the front of the group, right next to Granger as the office door slid open.

The Magistrate sat behind his desk surrounded by five men, most of who did not look like they belonged in a Republic Magistrate's office. There was an ancient spear mounted behind the Magistrate's desk. The Magistrate and his party and the Jedi sized each other up in silence until the Magistrate rose and greeted the new arrivals. "Master Granger, I'm glad you could make it, but I'm afraid you caught me at a bad time."

"Your message sounded urgent," Granger replied. "And I don't take near chaos in a Republic system lightly."

"Neither do I Master Jedi," Lopez answered. He waved his hand to dismiss his company. "Just wait in the office for a moment."

On the way out, Jessie one of the five locked eyes with Myriam. He nodded nervously. She grinned and coldly whispered, "See you soon." He gulped in response and quickened his pace.

The Magistrate took down the spear behind him. He rubbed his hand down it slowly then turned to face the Jedi, spinning the spear in his hands. "Do you appreciate History, Master Jedi?"

"Of course," Granger answered.

"Then you will appreciate this," he pointed the tip of the spear at Granger. Iesha placed her hand on her lightsaber, but the Magistrate continued. "This spear comes from the time of Xim the Despot. It may have even belonged to one of his personal guards. The guards rarely found the need to use their spears. They came to symbolize Xim's power. Just the sight of this spear would be enough to intimidate anyone who would think of crossing him." The Magistrate withdrew the spear. He returned it to the wall and walked from behind his desk and bowed to give the Jedi a proper greeting. "Syllian was on the brink of chaos barely a year ago. The Prime Minister requested help from the Republic and I was sent to restore order. The low-lifes in and around the system needed a reminder of the Republic's power. I was that reminder and order has been restored. Imagine my surprise to learn that a team of Jedi has been dispatched to do what I have already accomplished."

"I would hope that we could support your efforts, Magistrate," Granger bowed in reply. "The Council has….. other sources….. that indicate that there are continuing problems particularly with supply lines being robbed and so forth."

Lopez nodded thoughtfully, "Of course we are not without crime as any system. I felt it was necessary to quell the violence and then turn my attention to nonviolent crimes. In fact," the Magistrate eyed Myriam, "the men who were just here are some of my contacts within those very organizations."

"Then we should speak with them," Granger suggested.

Lopez held his cool, but noticeably swallowed hard, "You must understand secrecy is the utmost importance. I must insist that they report only to me. Of course, I will pass along any useful information that they provide."

"Of course," Granger replied. "Is there anyone that you would suggest we investigate first?"

The Magistrate returned to his seat. He leaned back contemplatively into his seat, "There is a rumored mobster named Zeakwon. He may have connections with the Hutts. I've feared that they would make a move on this system for some time….."

"Very well, we shall start with him," Granger bowed and dismissed his team. In the outer office, the Jedi passed the men from the Magistrate's meeting. Jessie locked eyes again with Myriam again. She grinned as he gulped once more and quickly walked to the Magistrate's office.

"Who is that guy?" Finly asked Myriam when they were a safe distance away.

"I recently….. took care….. of his former boss," she turned to Granger, "not the type who should be meeting with a Republic Magistrate."

"I figured," was all that Granger offered.

"So we're going to check out this Zeakwon?" Hector inquired.

"We're going to go….. make an impression. Iesha?"

"Yes, Master?"

Granger tossed to his padawan the communicator from the Prime Minister. "Return to our quarters. Contact Delfo and inquire about this Zeakwon. Then contact me about what she says."

For a few seconds, Iesha was disappointed that she would not be going with the group. She looked at the communicator and remembered the Prime Minister's instructions that only Granger should communicate directly with her. Iesha realized this was her master's way of showing Delfo and the team just how much he trusted and relied on his padawan. "Yes, Master."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Zeakwon met with his lieutenants in the office of a trading company along the ports. The Jedi took positions to observe the entrance. When Zeakwon and all of his men appeared to be in the building, Granger gave the order for the others to move to the entrance. As they approached the security check point a frazzled guard rushed out to meet them. "Do you have an appointment?" the guard asked nervously.

Ganger waved his hand in front of the guard, "Zeakwon is expecting us."

"Zeakwon is expecting you," the guard repeated.

Iesha contacted her Master as they approached the elevator, "Master, the Prime Minister says that Zeakwon is not even on anyone's radar. Her intelligence suggests that he's a small time player. Nowhere near the league of the Hutts or the Magistrate's people."

"I figured that. Thank you padawan. Standby for further instructions." Granger turned to his team once they were on the elevator. "I'm sure there's nothing nice about this Zeakwon, but it appears the Magistrate is trying to use us to take out a potential competitor." Granger paused and scratched his chin.

"I'm sure he's scum enough," Myriam added, drawing her lightsaber.

"I don't mind taking out the garbage," Hector nodded, pulling his as well, followed by Hannibal and Numa.

Granger shook his head, "Put those things away. We are here to make an impression." He looked at each member of the team. "Does anyone have a glove?"

Finly held out a pair of pilot's gloves.

"It will do," Granger commented, taking only one. He slid the glove on to his hand and turned just as the elevator came to a stop. "Just stay behind me," he added as the doors slid open.

About seven lieutenants stood in a semicircle in front of their boss. Startled at the sight of the six Jedi, the men turned, pulled their blasters and opened fire.

Granger extended the gloved hand, the shot from each blaster seemed drawn into it, but merely disappeared in a puff of smoke on contact. When the men paused from their shooting in shock, Granger made a beckoning motion with his fingers. Each blaster flew from the hands of the lieutenants and slid across the floor to the feet of the Jedi Master

Zeakwon hissed, "I see our beloved Magistrate sends the Jedi to do his dirty work now."

Granger smiled, "We do not work for the Magistrate, but you now work for me."

_Next: Part 2_


	3. Chapter 3: New Sheriff in Town: Part 2

**New Sheriff in Town: Part 2**

Jessie glanced over his shoulder, nervously. He saw nothing down the alleyway. He carefully punched in the code. Just as he hit the last number, he heard a loud crash at the other end of the alley. He spun, blaster in hand, but there was nothing. When he turned to face the door again, there was a blue beam of light across his throat.

"Pleasure to see you again, Jessie," Myriam emphasized the name, just so he would understand that she knew exactly who he was.

"Hi," Jessie whispered eying the lightsaber carefully.

"I do hope you remember me," Myriam moved the blade just slightly.

"Of course," Jessie gulped.

"Say it," the blade nicked the underside of his chin.

"Myriam, the Jedi," he spat out nervously.

"And you remember what happened to your former boss and his crew?" she reminded.

"Yes," Jessie squeaked more than whispered.

"Tell me what I want to know," Myriam threatened afresh.

"The Magistrate?" Jessie attempted to clarify.

"Exactly," she responded.

"What exactly?"

"Everything," Myriam affirmed.

Two hours later, Jessie was huddled in a corner soaking in his own urine. Myriam cleaned her lightsaber. Hannibal stared at her in awe.

"He seems pretty weak," Hannibal pointed with his nose to Jessie, "I'm very impressed, but couldn't you have just Mind-Tricked him?"

Myriam paused thoughtfully from her cleaning, "Probably, but fear leaves a more lasting impression."

"Fair enough," Hannibal conceded. He continued to admire Myriam. "Nothing sexier than a beautiful woman when she's angry."

Myriam paused from her cleaning again with a sigh. Her blade shot forth and Hannibal jumped out of the way just in time to save his crotch. "Oh, you haven't seen me even close to angry. And if you ever speak to me less than professionally again, I will do to you what I did to his boss. And still won't be angry about it."

Hannibal gulped, "Fair enough."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Finly looked down on the docks from his hiding spot. "Looks like the shipment and the clients have arrived," he spoke into his comlink.

"Very well," Numa responded from the shadows below. "Hector, when they make the exchange, you move in. I'll cut off their escape."

"Roger," Hector acknowledged on top of a nearby shipping crate. "How'd I get the hard part?"

After a few minutes of pleasantries between both parties, credits appeared. Hector knew that was his cue. He dropped from the crate to the middle of the entire group, lightsaber flashing. "Greetings sleemos. Please don't come quietly."

The four men from the ship pulled blasters. Hector raised his left arm to send two of them crashing into a nearby pile of junk. He deflected blasts from the other two with his saber back into their hands. The three delivery boys turned to run, but were cut off by Numa who extended both arms and sent them flying back towards the ship.

Hector grinned, "We make a pretty good….." A lookout, hiding in the corner jumped up and ran back towards the warehouses.

"After him!" Numa pointed and both Jedi took off in pursuit.

The lookout made it maybe twenty meters when Finly came crashing down on top of him. "Surprise!"

"Finly!" Numa exclaimed. "That was not the plan! We were supposed to let one go and follow him to his contacts!"

"Oh yeah," Finly started, "Ummmmm….oops…..guess I got caught up in the moment.

Hector shook his head, "Well, the main thing is we got the merchandise and more importantly the manifest. Should provide plenty of intel for us."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Granger squirmed in his seat across the Prime Minister's desk. He never pictured himself as the type of leader who would send his team on an assignment while he sat in an office, but he knew he needed to be there to pump Delfo for information. He could have left the job for Iesha, but Delfo was far more forthcoming with the Master than with the padawan. The other five Jedi's images appeared on from the communication display almost simultaneously.

Hannibal spoke first, "Our…..I mean…..uhhhh….Myriam's contact told us that the main boss in Syllian these days is a guy named Ocir. He's headquartered somewhere in the Outer Rim, but they're the gang that runs everything here. Somebody high up in Ocir's organization is related to the Magistrate."

The Prime Minister nodded at Iesha who spoke up, "That jives with the PM's intel."

Numa added, "The ship from our meeting had clearance from within the Magistrate's office and the manifest says the packages were to be delivered to someone named Urrillian."

Myriam added, "Jessie says that's one of the guys that we interrupted in the Magistrate's office the other day."

"Master Numa," Delfo spoke up. "What was in the crates?"

"Death sticks, lots of them."

Granger sighed, "All the dots seem to connect back to the Magistrate. Madam Prime Minister, is there any doubt in your mind that he isn't in the middle of all this? That he is somehow just a pawn or being used in some way?"

"No," she stated. "He is the source, not a side-effect."

"Very well," the Jedi Master rose from his chair. "Jedi meet me back at the Magistrate's office within the hour."

Each Jedi signed off. Granger and Iesha moved to the door. "Master Granger," the Prime Minister called after him. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to attempt to arrest the Magistrate, but if that doesn't work….." he smiled at Iesha. "I'll leave another impression. Will you back me up Madam Prime Minister?"

"Do what you need to do, Master Jedi."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The assembled Jedi strolled into the Magistrate's office with a sense of righteousness on their side. Granger waved his hand in front of the office manager, "We are here to see the Magistrate." Without responding, the manager touched a button and the door to the main office slid open. This time four of the five men (minus Jessie) from before and several others were gathered in various chairs around the room listening to the Magistrate ramble from behind his desk about leadership.

"Master Jedi," the Magistrate groaned. "I must insist that this wait until later…"

"And I, Magistrate," Granger interrupted, "Must insist that you return with me to Coruscant immediately."

The Magistrate gave a fake startled look to one of his nearby henchmen, "You have no authority to do that, now please leave."

Granger sighed, "That is exactly what I have the authority to do. Feel free to call the Prime Minister for clarification."

The Magistrate sighed, "I should have known her office was behind your being here. I tell you what. File a motion with the courts back in Coruscant and if they feel I should return, I will have my office file a response. Should only take a few years to sort out."

Granger cleared his throat, "You are under arrest. Are you refusing to come quietly?"

"I've had enough of this," the Magistrate frowned. "Get out of here before I have you arrested for trespassing."

"Very well," Granger turned just slightly. He glanced at the spear mounted on the wall behind the Magistrate. It flew from its mount and stopped just in front of Granger. The spear began to spin as the Jedi Master spoke. "You said this spear was a symbol of power. I say what good is power if it is never used for anything good?"

When Granger stopped speaking, the spear shot forward. It flew through the Magistrate's chest and half way out the back of his chair. For a few seconds everyone, the Jedi and henchmen were in shock. Then Granger, followed closely by the rest of the team, turned to face the Magistrate's underlings. Green and Blue blades sprung to life as they turned. Granger spoke with an authority none of them had heard before. "Go back to where you come from. Tell whoever you work for that I am in charge of this system now."

_Next: Teamwork_


	4. Chapter 4: Waiting

Lessons Learned

Hilal was one of the best crackers in the business. Although he and his partners had been living well for months, he was happy to be back at it. Since the Jedi hit the planet, "easy street" had come to an end. HIlal could get into anything and now that credits were not just being handed to them, his skills were again needed.

"What's the hold up?" his partner's voice came from behind.

Hilal did not even pause or look up. "It's been a while…."

A green glow seemed to fill the alley. "Play time is over gentlemen."

Both thieves spun to face Numa. "Jedi!" Hilal's partner whispered.

"Oh you're a quick on," Numa's green glow was joined by the blue glow of Hannibal's saber as he stepped out of the shadows to the right.

"Idiot," Hilal's partner muttered, you hit an alarm.

Before Hilal could deny the accusation, his partner's blaster was out and rising. A second green flash appeared nearby and cut the blaster in half. Both thieves noticed Finly for the first time on their left. We're Jedi, you moron. We don't need alarms." Finly grinned as he raised the blade to the blaster yielding thief's throat. "I would suggest coming quietly, but you don't have to."

"Fin," Hannibal slightly jealous interrupted, "have you been hanging around Myriam?'

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"I beg to differ Granger interrupted the accusing holograms of the Jedi Council as his ship entered hyperspace bound for Coruscant, "I would say I did exactly what I was sent to do."

"You murdered a public official!" A Republic Magistrate!" Master Oo'looku was taken aback. "We sent you to restore order, not destroy the Republic's effort to do so….. Not to distribute your own brand of justice…. Not to leave the system in chaos…."

"The Magistrate was connected to nearly every criminal activity in the sector. He had connections in the Outer Rim. I cut the head off of the Gundark," Granger defended.

Master Oldofo chimed in, "The allegations against the Magistrate are substantial, but hasn't criminal activity increased slightly since his death?

"And we are dealing with those elements as I stand here to defend myself. The Magistrate's "friends" muscled out all of the competition and extorted the legitimate businesses. That is when the Prime Minister contacted you for help. Some of those other elements are attempting to retake their old territory and the Magistrate's former associates are scrambling as well. I should be out there as well. Things will get worse before they get better."

"Until we have straightened all of this out, you are relieved of all your duties," Oo'looku firmly ended Granger's monologue.

Granger knew his actions were rash, but he had expected the Council to see the wisdom behind it. He told himself that he should have known better. "Have you spoken to the Prime Minister?"

"We will speak with her tomorrow," Tarayzin reassured. "Her opinion of the situation will go a long way towards sorting this out."

"Very well," Granger signed off and sat back down in the floor. He began to clear his mind and resume his meditations, but he struggled to get started. If there was one thing that he hated, it was waiting on the Jedi Council to make a decision. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

This was the part of every mission that Iesha hated most, the waiting. There was always something to wait for: orders, a signal, something to survey, scout, recon, or sometimes, like now, she had to wait for just the right moment.

"This is the part I hate most," Hector broke the rooftop silence. "I mean, we're just supposed to sit here until this guy shows?"

Myriam did not even look up from her binos, "There will always be something to wait for."

Iesha grinned, "It's part of every mission." The padawan looked at the seasoned warrior for the expected affirmation, but Myriam still did not flinch from her binos. Clearing her throat and humbling her tone, Iesha added, "That was Master Granger's first lesson."

"Yeah, yeah," He glanced at Myriam, "And probably Yoda's too, but still….." Hector turned back to Iesha, "What do you think they'll do to him?"

"Who?" Iesha inquired not quite sure if Hector was talking to her.

"The council to you master," Hector clarified. "He impaled a Republic official."

"He'll be fine," Myriam chimed in still fixated on her binos." The Prime Minister will speak up for him."

"How can you be sure? How is Force thrusting a spear through a magistrate the Jedi way?" Hector inquired.

"That spear," Myriam responded, "symbolized the full corruption of that so-called magistrate. Granger put it right where it belonged. I just wish, I would have thought of it."

Hector shook his head, "It just doesn't seem right." He paused in thought then turned to Iesha. "Does he ever use his lightsaber?"

"All the time," Iesha though, then noting Hector's confusion, added, "in training."

"Really?"

He's pretty militant about it…..that and meditation," Iesha answered.

"But does he ever use it in combat?" Hector insisted.

Iesha sighed, "I've seen him activate it twice on a mission. Only one of those was in combat. He says we have the whole Force at our disposal and shouldn't be limited by our sabers."

"The combat was when Shwafa went rogue?" Myriam almost looked up from her binos.

"Yeah," Iesha sighed again.

"He was part of that?" Hector was impressed.

Before Iesha could respond, Myriam spoke up again. "He pretty much was "that" from what I understand."

"Wow," Hector muttered. Then he had another thought, "Wait, doesn't that mean you were there?"

"Yeah," Iesha sighed, "My first taste of combat….. one of my first missions."

"You locked sabers with Shwafa as a padawan? Granger even let you come along?" Hector was adamant.

"It was a little overwhelming, but Master Granger believes I learn best by doing."

"But if you get in over your head too soon you could get killed….."

"He also says that if I fail, he fails as a teacher. So his confidence is more in his teaching than in my abilities."

"Sounds just like Master Yoda," Myriam almost grinned. It would be interesting to see him in action."

"Well," Hector mused, "seems like we'll have our hands full. Assuming the council doesn't expel him, we should get the chance."

"Do you really think that may happen?" Iesha tried not to sound worried.

This time Myriam did glance up long enough to give Hector a cold look. They are fools if they do. Mind you feelings padawan. We still have a mission."

Iesha and Hector returned their attention to watching the street below. Hector felt as though he should lighten the mood, "So Granger can handle a saber, huh? Think he's as good as you, Myriam?"

"Seeing as how we're on the same side and we'll never have to fight each other, I'd say it's a moot point," Myriam blew off the question.

"But don't you ever wonder who's the best?... well…. Second best? Hector prodded.

Myriam and Iesha glanced at each other, Myriam quickly returned to her binos as Iesha turned her eye roll in Hector's direction, "And just who is the first?"

Hector cleared his throat, "Well I have won the lightsaber tournament for three years in a row….."

Myriam sighed, "Why would a Jedi take pride in such a thing?"

Hector blew off the comment, "It's all in good fun….. Why haven't you ever entered?"

"Waste of time," Myriam responded. "I only need to be better than my opponent. And none of them have ever had a lightsaber."

"Ok. Good point," Hector conceded, "but maybe you and I should spar sometime just to satisfy our curiosities?"

"I ain't that curious," Myriam muttered. "Besides maybe we're about to find out," She dropped her binos. "They're here." Myriam flung herself over the ledge followed quickly by Hector and Iesha.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"So what do you really think of him?" Tarayzin tried to get an answer from his sister without being too pushy.

"I haven't made up my mind yet," she responded slowly. "He's unorthodox to say the least."

"That's why I thought he would be perfect for this," Tarayzin offered.

"He did impale a Republic Magistrate….." the Prime Minister mused.

"There is that….. but you said the Magistrate was the problem….."

"It was just slightly more rash than I guess we old politicians are used to, but he probably accomplished more here in two days than the Republic in two centuries.

"That hardly seems fair," the Jedi master observed.

"The Republic's changing," Delfo sighed. "Most don't see it yet, but if we're not careful it will destroy itself….. Not in our lifetimes, probably not my children's, but eventually."

"Everything ends," the Jedi offered.

"And all methods change," his sister countered.

"True," Tarayzin mused. "So the Council gives its official decision tomorrow, but unofficially, the decision is yours. So the question is, do you want Master Granger to remain in Syllian?

"We need him now more than ever."

"The team can stay even if he goes," Tarayzin pointed out an alternative.

"I think," the Prime Minister paused, "I think….. they need him."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Granger meditated in his quarters as the ship shot through hyperspace. The call signal broke his focus. The signal was followed by an unusually mellow tone in Oo'looku's voice. "Master Granger, the council has convened. There is no need to report to Coruscant. You may return to Syllian."

"I've already ordered the ship to turn around," Granger was confident, but tried not to sound cocky.

The discomfort in the elder Jedi's voice was obvious, "Very well." The communication ended rather abruptly.

Not flinching from his meditative position, Granger could not help but grin as he slowly closed his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5: Blackhats

**Blackhats**

"You sleemos really screwed the Gundark on this one," Barth berated the so-called gangsters surrounding him in the room. "When Tristan gets here….."

One of the low-life's lifted his eyes up from the floor. "He's coming here?"

Barth noted the quiver in the objector's voice. "Yes, we had a strangle hold on this system and you let it go to podoo." Barth briefly turned his back to the fearful man and faced the others. He quickly spun back around, blaster drawn and fired the criminal with the objection. "Anybody else think Tristan is a bigger issue than what we're currently facing?" Some of the newer or softer hearted guys stirred slightly. The harder more experienced thugs kept their composure even though the mere mention of Tristan scared some of them almost to death. "All right then, what's our first move."

"Look, boss," one of the men finally spoke up. "The problem is not us. The Magistrate is gone and the Jedi are everywhere. I don't know how they do it. It's like they know our moves before we do. I'm surprised they haven't crashed this meeting….."

"Then we obviously have a leak somewhere," Barth breathed in slowly. "The Jedi aren't here, that means the leak didn't know about this….. meeting of the minds," he purposefully exaggerated the sarcasm in his voice. "Find out who isn't here and plug the leak. I'd say that's our first move."

The second objector was not satisfied. "Yeah, there could be a leak, but the Jedi….."

Barth did not even turn towards his opposition. He merely raised his blaster and fired again. As the body dropped, he threateningly reissued his order, "Find the leak."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"They are going to kill me!" Jessie tried to make his point known without his voice squeaking.

"You're point?" Myriam huffed.

Iesha tried not to snicker as Jessie tried not to whimper. "They know there's a leak."

"This Barth thinks the leak wasn't at the meeting. You'll be fine," Numa interjected. "For the time being…."

Myriam inched closer, "I'm the only one you should worry about. Whatever you're afraid they will do to you, I can do worse. And I promise you I will get to you first. Besides, you're only keeping tabs on Zeakwon. He's the one giving Master Granger all the real intel. You're just insurance."

"But….but…. Zeakwon was at the meeting too…" Jessie seemed confused.

"You're right," Numa tried to reassure him. "We've been doing this for a while. So while your friends are chasing down the wrong snitches, you're going to tell us more about this Barth."

Jessie stopped visibly shaking. "He's sort of like the boss's spokesperson in Syllian."

"The boss being Vespecio?" Iesha clarified.

"Right," Jessie muttered.

"And who is this, Tristan?" Numa pushed.

Jessie shook again, "Bad news." He glanced at Myriam. "Badder than you even."

Myriam grinned, "We'll see, I'm sure."

"He's the boss's number 2. He's the muscle, the enforcer, whatever you want to call him. Whenever there's a problem and he shows up to fix it, somebody dies."

Myriam grinned again. "I like him already."

"I hope the two of you get along famously. You're a perfect match for each other," Jessie groaned.

"Awwww…." Myriam shook her snitch's chin and patted his cheek harder than he appreciated. "You really do care."

When the Jedi let their mole go, he darted away as quickly as he could. "What next?" Iesha beat the elder two Jedi to the question.

Numa paused in thought. "Myriam you go rattle some cages. See what you can find out about this Tristan."

"Works for me," Myriam was off before any goodbyes could be offered. Iesha was a little disappointed. Sending Myriam off on her own not only meant that she would not get to hang around her, but that Numa intended to keep the padawan of the group under her wing. Of the team, Numa was by far the most "by-the-book". Iesha thought that the senior most member (after Granger) was more than capable for pretty much any mission, but there was still something she did not like. Maybe it was just her master's tendency towards unorthodoxy rubbing off on her, but Iesha could not shake the feeling that the most straight-arrow of the group could be a mole herself, for the Jedi Council. If they did in fact, have trouble trusting Granger, then she was the logical choice to report back to them.

"You wish I had sent you with her, don't you?" Numa broke Iesha's thoughts. Before Iesha could form a denial, Numa added, "Seeing her in action is quite amazing. We can all learn a lot from her."

Numa's sensitivity threw Iesha for a loop. "It's fine. I don't think she likes me very much anyway."

"Why do you say that?" Numa was sincerely puzzled.

"She never uses my name. She only refers to me as 'padawan'."

Numa snickered, "Think of it as a term of affection. She is very closed off. She is probably toughest on those she cares about and respects."

Iesha let the words sink in. She wanted Myriam's respect almost as much as Granger's. Although not as experienced as Numa, after Granger, she had the best reputation of the team. "Why are you so worried about what she thinks…. Or anyone for that matter?" Numa broke into Iesha's pondering again.

"I don't know," the padawan mused. "She's just good at what she does. It would be nice to have her respect."

"Respect is important, but do not get too wrapped up in the approval of others," Numa warned. "Not even your master's"

Although Iesha realized the wisdom of Numa's words, she could not help but feel in tinge of anger. _Who is she to instruct me? I have a master._ Then Numa's warning seemed to take on a new meaning. Suddenly she realized that they had been wandering through alleyways for some time. Iesha pressed for a change of subject. "Where are we going anyway?"

Numa grinned, "We need a patsy, someone who can appear to be the mole to keep suspicions away from Jessie and Zeakwon."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Barth could not help, but gulp as the ramp from the ship began to descend. Having just berated the men for not fearing Tristan, he also tried to not shake visibly. Zeakwon, standing next to Barth noticed his higher-up's hint of nervousness. He suddenly felt better. It dawned on him how much pressure the bosses must be putting on Barth. Bartha was Syllian as far as he was concerned. But suddenly Tristan appeared at the top of the ramp and Zeakwon's worries came flooding back. Tristan was rumored to have a sixth sense of sorts. What if the boss's enforcer saw right through the underling that was snitching to the Jedi?

At first glance, Tristan was not that much of an opposing figure. He wore the standard dress of any Outer-Rim outlaw, except for the wide-brimmed black hat atop his head. Only the baddest of the bad wore a hat like that. It screamed for attention. Only a newb looking to make a name for himself or someone who had already earned a reputation, like Tristan, would dare to wear something that would stand out that blatantly.

"Welcome to Syllian, buddy," Barth tried to sound friendly instead of nervous. He approached the Number Two to shake hands. No one was really "friends" with Tristan, but Barth had worked with him enough to feel like he did not have to be formal.

Tristan calmly pushed up the brim of his hat. "What's the update?"

Barth swallowed hard. "Nothing's really changed."

"The mole?" Tristan raised an eyebrow as the trio moved away from the ship.

Barth swallowed again, "We're narrowing it down…."

"You have two days," Tristan warned.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Zeakwon carefully made his way through Syllian's back alleys. He was always careful, but today even more so. He had not met with the Jedi in quite some time. He zig-zagged through the alleys to cautiously lose anyone who may be following…. Anyone who maybe following him and anyone who may be following the followers. When he reached the proper alley, he saw Granger and Iesha standing alone in the shadows. "Yeah?" He tried to sound as inconvenienced as possible.

Granger motioned with his head to the opposite dark corner where Numa was hiding within her cloak and the shadows. "Do you know Gratis the Pimp?" Numa inquired.

"Of course," Zeakwon spat back.

"We're going to arrange it so that he appears to be the mole, "Numa continued, "and you will catch him."

For a second relief flooded into Zeakwon's veins, but then he began to calculate the repercussions. "Barth may buy that, but Tristan's too smart. Gratis is our top earner. No way he'd be a snitch."

Numa glanced at Granger, then continued. "Gratis is one of the few whose income has increased since the Magistrate's death. You can convince Tristan that he was in league with us."

"Was?" Zeakwon clarified.

"In a few hours, Gratis will have a very public confrontation with us," Numa motioned between herself and Iesha. "After that, it should be fairly easy to convince the family that he is the mole and you will be the one who brings him in," Numa explained.

Ganger added, "That should keep anyone off your trail and get you in closer with this Tristan.

Zeakwon could not help but grin, "That may just work, Jedi."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Numa and Iesha sat in a corner booth where they could see the entire bar. Numa took a long draw from the Nargila hose, then passed it to Iesha. "Aren't these even more addictive than death sticks?" Iesha inquired.

"That's why it's important to discipline yourself to practice everything in moderation," Numa responded.

Iesha smiled politely. She hated the way Numa always seemed to drop nuggets of truth, but she had to admit that she had learned a lot watching Numa work and hearing those nuggets. The padawan turned her attention back towards Gratis's table. He was heavily involved in a Sabacc game, but full of enough drink that he was beginning to get rowdy. She saw Zeakwon and his henchmen at their table across the room. They appeared to be minding their own business, which was exactly the plan. "When do we move?" Iesha asked not impatiently, just out of curiosity.

"We'll move when he's drunk enough."

"How will we know that?"

"The Force will let us know," Numa grinned.

It was not too long of a wait before the Sabacc table became obviously out of hand. Without saying a word to each other, Numa and Iesha rose to make their way across the room. The bouncer met them at the table, "No problem here, Jedi. We can handle it," He turned to face the Sabacc players. "Time to go."

"Get lost whelp," Gratis blew off the suggestion and continued to argue.

"Now," the bouncer reiterated. When Gratis turned with a violent lust in his eyes, the bouncer eyed the Jedi nervously.

"You're afraid of a couple of Jedi?" Gratis backhanded the bouncer like one of his girls.

Before the bouncer hit the floor, the green beam of Iesha's saber was in Gratis's face. "Step outside with us, Gratis," She pronounced his name carefully and slowly to suggest this was not the first time they had met.

"Maybe when the game's over, sweetheart," Gratis sneered.

"Or maybe now," Numa insisted. "You've been ducking us."

"I've been what?" Gratis could not hide his shock at the Jedi's words. By this time, Zeakwon and his crew had also reached the table. "I'm afraid, Jedi, that you have me deeply confused."

"Then come outside so was can straighten the whole thing out," Iesha nearly nicked Gratis's nose with the tip of her saber as he placed his hand on the hilt of his blaster.

Completely unexpected, Iesha felt the back of Zeakwon's hand come across her mouth. She fell to the floor, near the bouncer, as her lightsaber rolled to Gratis's feet. As blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth a rage that she had never known passed through her. It felt….. powerful. Numa extended her saber and stepped between Iesha and the gangsters. "You will regret that."

"I don't think so Jedi," Zeakwon motioned with his head. Numa glanced around her to see what seemed to be the entire bar with blasters pointed in their direction.

Ever calculating his next move, Zeakwon weighed his options. He would hand Gratis in as the snitch as planned. That would win him favor with Tristan. He could let the Jedi go as planned and stay in favor with Granger or he could kill them, and make an enemy of Granger, but score even more points with Tristan as well as build an undreamt of reputation. "Get out of here, now," he spat at Numa. Gratis and Iesha reached for the lightsaber. "I'll take that Zeakwon insisted. He scooped it up for himself as Iesha rose to stand behind Numa. With only her lightsaber between them and nearly one hundred blasters, Numa and Iesha slowly backed out of the bar.

Once they were out of the door, most of the bar went back to their business. Delighted, Gratis turned back to the table to resume the Sabacc dispute, "Now where were we?" He quickly noticed Zeakwon's men and even a few of his own still had their blasters out. Gratis glanced at Zeakwon.

Zeakwon returned the glance with a grin. "I think it's you and I that need to step outside."

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Barth stared with delight at Gratis's head that decorated his desk. Of course, it was Tristan who was sitting in Barth's seat behind the desk that needed impressing. "I told you I'd get him."

Tristan ignored the bragging and eyed Zeakwon. He flipped the captured lightsaber in his hand. "Do you know how to work one of these?"

Zeakwon shrugged. Barth reached for the saber, "I'm sure there's a button…." Tristan's cold stare stopped Barth's reach. He returned his gaze to Zeakwon. "Wasn't it sort of sloppy for the Jedi to confront their mole in public?"

_Damn!_ Zeakwon panicked on the inside, but kept his cool visibly. "I guess it was sloppy of them to lose a lasersword too."

Tristan pondered the comment, then cracked a slight smile, "They say you pimp-slapped that Jedi."

Zeakwon lowered his head, but could not help, but grin. The rumors were even better than he hoped. Barth, not liking the respect that Tristan was showing Zeakwon, added, "I hear she was only an apprentice."

Tristan made his annoyance obvious, "And how many Jedi have you slapped? Even apprentices?" He turned his attention back to Zeakwon, "Why didn't you kill them?"

Zeakwon swallowed. "I figured killing two Jedi would only bring more our way. I got a business to run."

"Smart," Tristan mumbled.

"I'd'a killed 'em both!" Barth interjected. "You were just scar….."

Tristan had enough of Barth's babbling. He raised a hand. Barth felt his throat tighten and he began to gasp for air in mid-sentence.

Zeakwon saw Barth drop to his knees. He did not understand what was happening, but somehow he knew Tristan was doing it. A fear that he could not explain crept up his spine.

Tristan kept his hand raised as Barth dropped to the floor and began to roll around in the last vain attempts to gasp air. "We must be sure that we go the right mole." He lowered his hand when Barth stopped thrashing. "You run Syllian now."

Zeakwon was too scared to grin. "Soooooo….. you want I should keep looking for the snitch?"

Tristan pondered the question for another second. He again picked up the lightsaber. The metal shaft gleamed in the light of the desk lamp. "No, bring me a Jedi."


	6. Chapter 6: Impressions

**Impressions**

Numa and Myriam stared at each other as they stood on either side of the track. "About 1000 meters out," Finly's voice updated them through their earpieces. Numa and Myriam nodded at each other, drew and ignited their lightsabers, and held them out parallel about five feet above the track. They braced themselves as the sheer force of the wind nearly knocked them off their feet. The lightsaber blades did not quite touch each other, but would be more than sufficient. The lightsabers easily sliced through the front and sides of the train. The blades were halfway through the operator car before the automatic brakes engaged and three-fourths through the entire train when it came to a full stop. The Jedi sheathed their sabers and extended their arms. The top portion of the train began to peel back until it reached the intact portion. Except for a handful of crew members fortunate enough to be standing in the areas that the saber blades had not reached, the feetless crew of writhed in agony on the floor of each car.

To the ones still standing, Numa barked, "In the name of the Jedi Council of the Republic, you are all under arrest!" Seeing their feetless companions was warning enough. They quickly hopped down with their hands held high. Finly met his companions in front of the first intact car. Myriam stood in front of the door. Numa and Finly watched the sides. All three drew their sabers and braced themselves for the wall of blaster fire that was sure to come from the remaining occupants.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Tell me again why the trains are so important?" Hannibal sighed as he watched Granger walked towards the magnetic tracks through the binos.

Hector carefully glanced back at Iesha, then whispered, "These late night trains have become their main supply lines. After what happened, we have to hit back hard so that these clowns will think Gratis really was the mole."

Hannibal pondered the idea, "Shouldn't we go smack Zeakwon the same way he smacked Iesha?"

Hector nudged his partner as Iesha joined them and mumbled, "We are…. He loses money when these trains don't reach the capital just like the rest of his gang." She tried to remain outwardly calm, but inside she fumed as she had been for three days. Granger consoled her, that it could happen to anyone and yet instead of allowing her to go out on assignments with the others, he had reattached her to his side. Little did she that it was not because he lacked confidence in her competence, but that he wanted to gauge how she was handling the incident. She could fool most of the team by how she acted, but she could not hide her feelings from her master.

Iesha's thoughts were interrupted by Hector's exclamation, "What the frosh is he doing?"

As Granger stepped into the middle of the track with the train only a few hundred meters away, Iesha's trust in her master came flooding back. She pointed with her chin, "Just watch."

Granger raised his arms at the approaching train. The front of the train came to a very sudden stop as though smashing into an invisible wall. The rest of first car, the second, third, and most of the fourth accordioned into the same wall. The rear of the fifth car lifted from the track flipping into a vertical position behind the fourth. The rest of the train would have followed suit, but became uncoupled from the flipped car. The remaining cars rolled off the track, the momentum pulling the new lead car nearly to Granger's position.

"That was impressive," Hannibal muttered not quite able to believe his eyes as he and the others moved to join their leader on the track.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Let go of it," Granger whispered. He slowly blew the rest of the air out of his lungs. Iesha sat cross-legged on the carpet facing her master, flickering candle between them. "Let go of your anger and in its place draw the Force in." Iesha blew her anger out with her breath. She felt a huge relief, but there was something within her that wanted to hold on to it. She wanted to keep the anger and nurture it. She could not escape this feeling. Somehow she knew the power she felt in her growing anger was also from the Force. She wondered how much of this conflict her master sensed. She took a deep breath and tried to blow away that feeling as well, but it would not leave. It was part of her.

The door of the room slid open. Myriam carefully entered. "Master, I'm sorry to interrupt, but Zeakwon has made contact."

Iesha's eyes popped open in excitement, but they immediately met Granger's warning stare. She took a deep breath, let her eye lids fall again and continued to focus on breathing. Granger grinned, "Very well. Tell Hector to meet us at the transport."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The transport sped through the flight paths. "How do we know this isn't a trap?" Hector finally voiced his concern.

"Why do you think I wanted you and Myriam along?" Granger answered.

Hector grinned at Myriam. "You hear that? He needs his best saber slingers in case there's any trouble."

"Just try to keep up," Myriam sighed.

"Granger grinned, "Something like that."

"So Iesha," Hector slightly changed the subject. "Does Zeakwon have your lightsaber with him?"

Iesha gave Hector an annoyed look. "How would I know?"

Hector laughed, "Still have a lot to learn, huh padawan?" He glanced at Granger and Myriam in expectation of confirmation of his suggestion. When he received none, he added, "I mean, I can sense my saber anywhere….. it's like an extension of me almost…. I thought we all could…."

"Impressive," Granger mumbled.

"Soooo…. You've lost your lightsaber before is what you're saying?" Myriam observed.

Hector started to respond, but knew there was no good explanation. He turned his attention back to Iesha. "If Zeakwon doesn't have it, try to locate it through meditation. When you do get it back, meditate with it sometimes."

The transport came to a stop. Myriam and Hector were the first off. Granger stopped Iesha before she descended the ramp. "I'm not exactly sure what awaits us out there." He paused for a second, then removed his lightsaber from his belt, holding it out to his padawan.

"Won't you need it, if things are bad?" Iesha was touched by the gesture.

"I'll be fine," Granger reassured her.

"Master," Iesha began, "you trained me. If you don't need one, then neither do I."

Granger smiled approvingly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Sleemo," Iesha muttered upon first seeing Zeakwon. In sheer reflex, she lifted her arm to begin a rage-filled Force-push. Sensing her intention, Granger caught her wrist before it was all the way up. He shook his head warningly. Knowing she was in the wrong, Iesha lowered her arm slowly, but eyed Zeakwon in fuming anger

Zeakwon's body language appeared equally angry, but Granger spoke first, "Explain yourself."

Zeakwon appeared flabbergasted, "Explain myself? Explain yourself! The attacks on the trains alone made business impossible! Not to mention the way you've been cracking down on everything else!"

"Well, that is our job," Granger responded calmly. "After you killed our 'mole'," Granger paused to let the words sink in, "and after the way you treated my apprentice, what did you…. And more importantly, what did your bosses expect to happen?"

Zeakwon's eyes were still full of anger, but he could not argue the logic. After allowing the gangster a moment of thought, Granger continued. "Now, I will have the lightsaber."

Zeakwon dropped his eyes, "I gave it to Tristan."

"As a trophy," Granger clarified. Zeakwon kept his eyes low. "That was not part of our arrangement. And putting your hand on Iesha was certainly not our agreement."

"I had to make it look good right?" Zeakwon tried in vain to defend his actions.

"And get yourself a hell of a promotion," Myriam interrupted.

"Froshin' Jessie," Zeakwon mumbled knowing exactly where the Jedi got their information.

"Yes," Granger assured Zeakwon. "If find it strange that I had to learn this information from another source."

Zeakwon had known from the moment his hand touched Iesha's mouth that he was beginning a dangerous game. "I had to be careful…."

"But not as careful as when money is being lost?" Granger reiterated.

Zeakwon sighed, "What do you want from me?"

"First the lightsaber will be returned," Granger raised a hand before Zeakwon could object. "I do not care how difficult it is. I do not care if your cover gets blown. It will be in my hand and very soon. Second…." Zeakwon looked as though he may object, but decided against it. "Jessie gets a promotion too. He is now part of your inner circle. Everything you know, he knows."

"That…." Zeakwon started thoughtfully, "will be strange." He glanced around at the Jedi. "Don't get me wrong, Jessie has his merits, but he's not someone who fits into management."

"Find a way," Granger insisted.

Zeakwon pondered his options, "Or what?" He unintentionally muttered.

"Or you're under arrest," Hector placed his hand on his lightsaber.

"Or you can resist and we'll kill you," Myriam offered.

"Each scenario works for us," Iesha added.

Zeakwon resigned himself anew to his role. "There's a complication."

"Yes?" Granger raised an eyebrow.

"Tristan's demanding that I bring him a Jedi….." Zeakwon muttered.

"Until you meet my demands," Granger stated firmly, "Tristan is you problem, not mine."

Hector interrupted again, "Hey guys, I have an idea that I think helps us all."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Myriam eyed the grinning Hector as Finly fitted the communication device in her ear. "I suppose I should consider it a compliment that you think I'm the one best suited for this mission."

Hector continued to grin as Finly handed him and the rest of the team their devices. "Seemed right up your alley."

Granger cleared his throat, "So Jessie takes Myriam to Zeakwon. They both take her to Tristan. Once inside Myriam will engage whoever's there and take out Tristan. Once she starts or if there is unforeseen trouble, Numa, Hector, Finly and I will move in. Hannibal, you stay here on comms. If there is major trouble, you and Iesha will come running."

Iesha, realizing she was not coming, started to object. Before she could speak, Granger held up his hand, "I want you to try Hector's suggestion. Attempt to locate your lightsaber. If it is not with Tristan, let us know so we can retrieve it."

The padawan did not like that she was sidelined for a mission that she felt responsible for. She should be the one retrieving her saber, not one of her teammates. "Yes Master," was her response.

Numa and Hector tailed Myriam to her meeting with Jessie. Granger and Finly set up an observation point close to Zeakwon's best guess of where Tristan would be. "Looks like it's just us," Hannibal winked at Iesha when they were all gone.

"I'll be in my quarters," the padawan muttered coldly. In her room, Iesha sat in the floor. She breathed deeply and slowly. Her eyes shut slowly. She pictured her lightsaber in her hand and visualized the practice exercises that she had known since youngling training. That is when it happened. She actually felt her lightsaber in her hand. No, not her hand, someone else's…..

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Crad and Pierre were sitting in Tristan's office as ordered. They both saw the lasersword on Tristan's desk, but neither quite had the guts to pick it up. Finally, Crad got up and carefully picked up the metallic cylinder. He gripped it in his hands and pretended to slash at Pierre.

"Put that thing down before you hurt yourself, Pierre muttered.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Iesha's eyes sprung open. She knew exactly where it was! The excited padawan sprung from the floor and darted to the consul where Hannibal was waiting. "I know exactly where it is. I…. I…. can feel it."

Her excitement brought a smile to Hannibal's face. "The lightsaber? Where? I'll let Master Granger know…."

"No!" Iesha interjected a little too excitedly. She tried to reel herself in by a change of subject. "Where are they?"

Hannibal cautiously gave her the details. Myriam met up with Jessie. He contacted Zeakwon who sent back-up. They gave Numa and Hector the slip (which we expected). Finly and Granger are tracking her. Hopefully they will all wind up in the same place….."

"So they're busy. I'll go get my saber….."

"Nice try kid," Hannibal interrupted her justification, "but those weren't the boss's instructions."

"Hannibal," Iesha's eyes pleaded. "I can't ask them to clean-up my mess. And they need to focus on Myriam right now. I'll make contact as soon as I find it…..please…."

Hannibal took a deep breath, "Dammit, always a sucker for a cute face," he mumbled to himself. "Ok kid, but if there is any trouble, get out of there. My tail's on the line too."

"No problem," she grinned and darted for the door.

"And Iesha," Hannibal called after her, "You know you owe me right?" She smiled back and for the first time did not mind the implied innuendo.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Pierre and Crad had finished their meeting with the boss and relocated to the roof. Pierre bounced a rubber ball against the ledge. "I hate days like these."

"Yeah, it's boring," Crad agreed. "No work at all since the Jedi took out the trains."

The door to the roof flew open. A fellow gangster stuck his head out. "Hey, you two. Boss wants you to grab that Jedi sword and meet everybody down in the courtyard."

"Not another meeting," Pierre exclaimed.

"Nah, they caught one a them Jedi."

Pierre and Crad glanced at each other. They jumped to their feet and raced back towards Tristan's office.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Iesha moved as far as she could through the ventilation system. She hopped into the hallway just outside of Tristan's office. She did not sense anyone behind the door, but she did sense her saber. The door slid open. Her heart jumped at the sight of it still on the desk. Just as she extended her hand to call it back to her, a shock hit her from behind and rushed through her entire body. She dropped to all fours, struggling to remain conscious. "Stupid….." she managed to mumble to herself.

Pierre stood behind her, blaster in hand. "Impressive, Jedi. I've never seen anybody take a stun blast before." He fired another shot. Iesha hit the floor had, completely unconscious.

"I thought the Jedi was in the courtyard," Crad inquired.

"Must be a decoy," Pierre reasoned. "Take this one to one of the storerooms and restrain her. I'll take the lasersword to the boss and let him know."

Crad smiled as he looked Iesha up and down, "Time for some fun."

"Definitely," Pierre nodded, picking up the lightsaber, "but business first."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Jessie gripped Myriam's lightsaber as he proudly led her and the guards into the courtyard. Finly watched through the binos as the others moved into position. Tristan raised an eyebrow beneath his hat. "Isn't this the one they call Myriam?"

"Yeah boss," Jessie beamed.

"So how'd you nab her?"

Jessie's pride suddenly turned into a stammer. "He got lucky," Myriam huffed.

"I thought you Jedi didn't believe in luck?" Tristan shot back.

"Yeah well," Myriam raised the restraints behind her back. "Guess we should rethink that."

Tristan smirked. A side door burst open. Pierre came running through, lightsaber in hand. "Boss! It's a trap!"

Myriam jumped high in the air. She pulled her knees to her chest, moved her arms underneath her and dropped her legs down behind the restraints. Sticking out her hands, Iesha's saber flew out of Pierre's hand and into hers, igniting in midair. When her feet hit the floor, her lightsaber flew from Jessie's hand, ignited, and flew into the jugular of the nearest guard.

Jessie, Zeakwon, and Pierre all dove for cover as the courtyard erupted with blaster fire. Tristan watched carefully, only occasionally using his own Force powers to deflect a stray laser bolt. Myriam used Iesha's saber to block the fire coming from her front. From behind, her saber, as though wielded by the Force itself, did the same. Each of the on-looking Jedi's (even Granger's) jaws dropped almost simultaneously. Hannibal's voice come over the comm, "are you all seeing this?"

"That is impressive," Granger conceded.

"So we're going down to help her, right?" Hector was already on the move towards the battle.

"She does not seem to need any help," Numa marveled. "I suggest we hang back and prevent others from escaping."

"Agreed," Granger ordered. Hector reluctantly gave up his attempt to move in.

When most of the attackers had dropped or fled, Myriam's lightsaber flew to her hand severing her restraints. Tristan stood face to face with her. He was impressed, but kept his cool. "You are a damn fine woman."

Myriam stepped into a fighting position with one blade above the other. "Let's dance then."

Just before she pounced, Pierre stepped from behind a pillar and fired his blaster at Myriam. Almost effortlessly, she deflected the shot, not back at the shooter, but at Tristan. The gangster calmly held up one of his gloved hands and the blast seemed to dissipate just as she had seen Granger do a month ago. Hannibal's amazed voice appeared in everyone's ears again, "OK…. Did everyone see that?"

Finly broke in excitedly, "What is he? A Sith? He's gotta be a Sith, right?"

"Don't jump to conclusions," Granger insisted. "Myriam can you bring him in?"

In sincere admiration, Myriam nodded at Tristan, "Sexy."

By this time, Zeakwon and Jessie were also out of their hiding spots. Zeakwon had his blaster drawn, but at his side, not quite sure who he should point it at. "What should we do boss?" Jessie asked, not quite sure if he was speaking to Tristan or Myriam.

"Let's get out of here," Tristan continued to eye Myriam.

"Good luck with that," Myriam smirked.

"Don't need luck today," Tristan reached into his duster. His hand came out with a thermal detonator.

"Poodoo," Myriam, Zeakwon, and Pierre muttered at the same time.

"Run!" Zeakwon screamed.

Tristan activated the detonator and gave it a Force push in Myriam's direction.

Myriam closed the sabers and dove for the basin of a nearby fountain, just as the explosion rocked the courtyard.

"Myriam!" Hannibal screamed. He paused for a few seconds, then frantically yelled into the comms. "Can anyone hear me…..anyone?" He slammed down his headset and ran for a transport.

Numa and Hector were the first to reach what was left of the courtyard. Before either of them could ask the other anything, a pile of rubble began to stir. The huge blocks shot up from the basin of the fountain. Covered in dust, Myriam slowly emerged from the basin. "Are you okay?" Numa rushed to her teammate's side.

"I can't hear a thing," Myriam answered a little louder than normal. "I'm okay though. Did we get any of them?"

Finly showed next, "I think they got away."

Granger was close behind. "They seem to be the last men standing though. I did not find any stragglers."

Hector looked around at the team and grinned, "And two of them belong to us."

"What?" Myriam pushed to be in the discussion.

When Hannibal reached the scene, a medical droid was tending to Myriam. The rest were searching the area. "Everybody okay?"

"Nothing that will not mend," the Jedi Master grinned at the thought of Myriam's extra lightsaber. "Where is Iesha?"


	7. Chapter 7: The Quick and Easy Path

**The Quick and Easy Path**

"_Where is Iesha?"_

"_You mean she's not here?" Hannibal stammered worriedly._

"_Why would she be here?" Granger inquired, his face became sterner than any of the team had seen it._

_A sense of dread overwhelmed the younger Jedi. "She sensed her lightsaber….. she went to get it and was going to meet up with the rest of you." Hannibal dropped his eyes, not because he knew Granger was displeased, but because he knew he had screwed up._

Hannibal's eyes popped open and he sat up at the edge of his bed. He knew there would be no sleep for tonight. He sat on the floor and crossed his legs. Meditation was the discipline of every Jedi, but he usually did the bare minimum. He was typically too impatient to make it work as it should. For the last several hours, he had been far too angry. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. If the padawan could locate her lightsaber, then surely he could locate her. "Iesha, I'm sorry."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Granger had poured over the scans of the courtyard a dozen times. There was no sign of his padawan. The only possible indication was the entrance of the mystery gangster with her lightsaber that Myriam said knew the meeting was a set up. Had he encountered Iesha? And what about Tristan? He appeared to have some knowledge of the Force. Just what had they stumbled on? The tired Jedi Master zoomed in on the stranger with the lightsaber. He closed his eyes. "Iesha…."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Iesha… _Her eyes slowly flickered open. She was sitting in a chair her arms were locked in chains both of which were bolted to the floor on either side of her. Her feet were in restraints attached to the chair. She tried to wiggle, the chair did not budge. Attached to the floor as well it seemed. The light in the room was dim, but she slowly became aware of the two men across from her. One sitting, one standing. The one standing threw a bucket of water in her face with a laugh and suddenly the world was a lot clearer. "Nice of you to join us," Pierre huffed from the chair. "He turned to Crad. "Leave us alone for a bit."

Crad looked down at Pierre with a frown. "But we're supposed to be having a little fun…."

"You will get your chance," he flashed a crooked smile at Iesha. "We all will." Crad mumbled under his breath on the way out. Pierre sat up straight in his chair, eye-level with his captive. "Tell me what I want to know."

"Go frosh yourself, sleemo," Iesha spat back managing to rattle the chair as well.

Surprised, Pierre grinned. "Feisty, I like that. Everything that happens to you in here is up to you. I'll ask again: Tell me what I want to know."

"What do you want to know?" Iesha tried to reach out with the Force to get a feel of her restraints.

"Tell me…." Pierre urged.

"I don't know what you want," Iesha answered groggily.

"Fine," Pierre cleared his throat. "I will ask once more. This is what will happen: If you answer, you eat. If you don't, I leave and shut the lights out. You will sit in here for one week. No food, no water, no light, no human contact. If you are still alive when I come back, I will ask again. If you still refuse to answer, then my men will take turns entertaining themselves with you for as long as they want. Crad, that just left, will go first. He really likes you."

"I'm under the legal age," she lied.

"Do you think we care about 'legal'?" Pierre snickered.

Iesha shook violently with rage. The same power she felt when Zeakwon slapped her surged threw her. She knew she should pause and cleanse herself of the anger, but she also knew that within that anger lay the power to set herself free.

Pierre said with a finality, "Tell me what I want to know." The young Jedi stared at him coldly. After a few seconds, Pierre rose to his feet. He started to turn to the door, but spun around to face his prisoner again. He leaned in, stroked her cheek and kissed her forehead. "I lied. I'll be that one that goes first. Just don't tell Crad."

As he left the room, he turned off the lights. Iesha turned red with rage and fear as the door shut behind him leaving her alone in the darkness.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"_I know exactly where it is. I…. I…. can feel it." _Iesha's excitement echoed through Hannibal's mind. _Hannibal… Please….._A rage he had never experienced welled up within him. He tried to focus on locating Iesha, but all he could think about was the lightsaber.

In Myriam's room, Iesha's lightsaber set on a corner table. It moved ever so slightly. Myriam sat cross-legged on the floor of her room, her own saber in her lap. She attempted to meditate with it as she had heard Hector suggest to the padawan. Her eyes opened slowly and focused on the other saber. "Padawan," she whispered.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Hannibal reached the main control room, Myriam was already discussing Iesha with Granger. "I can feel her too," he added, getting the gist of their conversation as he entered. They both stared back not quite sure what to make of his statement.

"Alright," Granger eyed Myriam carefully. "You two will go out and see what you can turn up. Numa and Hector are meeting with Zeakwon in a few hours. I will continue to work with Finly to see what we can turn up on this Tristan."

Myriam was hesitant about working with Hannibal, but if he was sensing the padawan, then he was the logical choice. She really wanted another shot at Tristan, but if the padawan was reaching out to her, then she needed to be on that trail. She turned to her new partner. "We'll start with Jessie. If he doesn't offer anything useful, then we'll see what we can turn up."

"May the Force be with you," Granger muttered as they exited the control room.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Are you sure about this… Jessie?" Tristan offered more of a warning than a question from behind his new desk.

Zeakwon's eyes drifted from his boss to Pierre who was sitting on a nearby couch and back. "Well, we lost quite a few men lately and…. I know he doesn't exactly stand out from the pack, but he….. has his merits."

"Very well," Tristan shrugged. "You are in charge." He turned to Pierre. "You work for me now. We need to go see the boss." He turned back to Zeakwon, "Can you manage to make some money while I'm gone?"

Zeakwon shrugged, "We haven't really been making any while you've been here…." Noticing Tristan's dissatisfaction, but also sensing that he should stand his ground as a show of strength, he gestured at Pierre. "And if I can't utilize my men that are actually smart….."

"Be smart for them," Tristan warned. "It's part of being in charge."

Zeakwon sighed and shook his head, "I'll do what I can." He dismissed himself, but gave Pierre a careful eye as he left.

"You trust him?" Pierre pointed with his chin after Zeakwon left.

Tristan tilted his hand towards his new trustee. "He's proven himself….. even more than you, in fact." Pierre gulped suddenly remembering just how new he was. "Have you gotten anything out of our prisoner?"

"Not yet," Pierre conceded. "I'm gonna let her stew for a while." He carefully added. "It would help to know exactly what you wanted out of her."

Tristan pondered the question. "Whatever you can get. And if she can't be broken….. kill her."

Pierre was still young and inexperienced, but there was one thing that he had proven to be good at. "Everybody can be broken," he grinned.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Zeakwon wearily punched in the entrance code to his quarters. There was a lot of restructuring that needed his attention. He needed to fill some positons. He needed to crack some heads so that the crews did not get lazy and continued to bring in profits. But all of that could begin in the morning. Tonight he needed to sleep. Suddenly, without his command, the lights came on. Numa and Hector were standing by his dining table. "What the hell are you doing here, Jedi?" he demanded.

"We'll be asking the questions," Hector warned. "Where is Iesha?"

"Who?"

"Master Granger's padawan," Numa clarified.

"Maybe she ran away," Zeakwon offered wearily.

The crime boss was propelled back into his own door by a blast from the Force. A not quite angry Hector towered above him. "Sleemo, this is not time for politicking. Where is she?"

Zeakwon reached for his blaster, but it was knocked from his hand by another push from the Force from Hector. Numa propelled him back again and stepped next to her partner. "Tell us where she is or you will be arrested."

"How should I know?"

"She disappeared after the incident in the courtyard," Hector was fighting to maintain his patience.

"Maybe she was blown up?" Zeakwon offered.

"She was not in the courtyard," Numa moved closer. She glanced at Hector, then back at the gangster. "Who was the guy who came in the courtyard with the captured lightsaber?"

"That's Pierre," Zeakwon rolled his eyes, then something seemed to dawn on him. "Wait, when did the padawan disappear?

Hector took a deep breath, "Roughly the same time you and Jessie brought Myriam to meet Tristan."

Understanding began to appear on Zeakwon's face. "Pierre is a fairly new guy and Tristan just gave him a huge promotion….." He looked up slowly at the Jedi. "And somehow he knew Myriam wasn't really a prisoner."

Numa pondered the implication. She glanced at Hector, "He must have caught Iesha trying to retrieve the saber." She turned back to Zeakwon. "Where is she?"

"I have no idea," Zeakwon reasserted.

"Find her," Hector warned. "You have one day. We will meet you back here tomorrow. If you don't show…."

"Not at my house," Zeakwon objected.

"We make the rules," Numa reiterated. "The only reason you are in the position you are in is because Master Granger let you go after he…. Relieved the Magistrate of his duties."

Zeakwon remembered seeing the Magistrate impaled in his own office. "What do you think Tristan will do to me?"

"Tell us more about him," Hector interrupted.

"He's the boss's number two," Zeakwon shrugged.

"He knows the Force," Hector directed the inquiry.

A new understanding flooded across Zeakwon's face, "That makes sense. I have….. seen things…."

"Like what?" Numa raised an eyebrow.

"Well….. like deflecting laser blasts with his hands. I'm pretty sure he strangled Barth without touching him…."

"We were wondering what happened to him," Numa turned to Hector who motioned with his head towards the door.

"We'll be back," he warned as they exited. "If Iesha's not here you will be arrested. If you don't show, we will find you and you will….. join the Magistrate."

Outside of the gangster's quarters, Hector lifted his comlink, "Hannibal old buddy."

"Yeah," Hannibal's voice came back, but sounded strained.

"Zeakwon doesn't know anything about Iesha…. And we believe him. Check out a guy named Pierre."

Hannibal's voice came back again, "We just visited Jessie. He told us about the same. We have a lead on a couple of guys in his crew."

"Alright," Hector responded. If we turn up anything else, we'll let you know. He signed off and replaced the comlink.

As he and Numa entered the lift, Numa asked, "Did Hannibal seem different to you?"

"Yeah, Iesha was technically his responsibility. He feels bad I guess."

"And he should," Numa paused. "Guess Myriam will not have to endure as many inappropriate comments as usual?"

Hector chuckled as the doors shut. "I know he hides it well, but he's quite the capable knight. Guess you should have pulled the straw to work with him while he's in this mood."

Numa answered, "That's what I mean. I've only found him to be quite the capable knight. I do not get the same comments that Myriam and Iesha get….." Her voice trailed off awkwardly.

Hector could not believe his ears. Was it jealously that he detected in his senior's voice? Did he really want to know? "You want his inappropriate side?"

Numa pondered the question, "I just expect to be treated the same as the rest of the team."

Hector decided that it was not jealousy he detected. It was a slight hurt. Not hurt about not getting attention from a male, but the hurt that anyone would feel about being an outsider. He was surprised, but Numa had gotten close to Iesha. Like Hannibal, the whole team was concerned. Just as his own anger nearly bubbled to the surface with Zeakwon, each of their emotions would be attempting to spill out in their own way.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Kleed and Sturk stumbled into the alley, not quite drunk, but certainly more than tipsy. They noisily joked their way down a side alley back to the hovel they were calling a home. They both had a job the next morning. It would be their first in nearly a week. Sturk was half-way through a joke about his partner's mother when Kleed stopped suddenly and hushed his companion. "Nuthin' personal," Sturk tried to explain assuming the other had been offended.

"Listen," Kleed whispered and pointed at the corner they were nearing. Sturk could hear stumbling footsteps and inaudible voices. They were not the only ones who drank that night.

Sturk's ears began to hone in on a male voice. "….always knew he was basically a bantha's birth canal…."

Then a female voice, "Yeah, that Pierre, I couldn't do anything with him. Hear he likes little boys…."

Hearing their new boss's name, Kleed and Sturk gave each other a glance, drew their blasters, and stepped around the corner. Kleed began, "You two should be more careful who you gossip about…." There was no one in the adjoining alley.

The two gangsters had half a second to give each other a confused glance before a powerful blow from behind knocked them off their feet and into the wall on the other side of the alley. Both men lost their grip on their blasters. Sturk was the first to clear his eyes. When he did, his neck was between the crossed blades of a blue and green lightsaber. A hooded woman's eyes peered into his from just above the blades. "Your turn," she smiled.

Rubbing his head, Kleed glanced sideways at his partner, then turned to look for his blaster. Another cloaked figure stood a few feet in front of him. The stranger's hand was extended. In front of his hand, both blasters hung in mid-air. "Tell me what I want to know," Hannibal nearly growled from beneath his hood.

"Go frosh yourself, Jedi….."

Hannibal swung his hand sideways. The blasters slammed against the wall, then fell to the pavement. "Where is she?" Myriam eyed her partner carefully as he angrily demanded more than asked.

"Who?" Kleed shot back.

Hannibal brought his hand back in front of him. He pulled back his hood and clenched his fist. Kleed began to gasp for air. "Where is she?"

Myriam could hear the anger in her partner's voice and see it on his face, but more importantly she could sense it through the Force. Still she let the thug choke a little longer. Moving her lightsabers just enough to regain Sturk's full attention, she asked, "Iesha, the Jedi padawan. Where is she?"

"How would we know," Sturk's horrified glance shot from the sabers to Kleed and back.

Myriam paused another second, then turned back to Hannibal. "I believe him."

Hannibal was undeterred. "Where is she?"

Kleed could only respond with gags and gurgles.

"Hannibal, if he can't breathe, he can't talk." When Myriam realized that her fellow Jedi was still unrelenting, she screamed, "Hannibal!"

Reluctantly, Hannibal unclenched his fist. Air came flooding back to Kleed's lungs as he collapsed to the ground.

Myriam closed the lightsaber blades and squatted to get eye-level with Sturk. "Then tell us where to find Pierre."

Sturk glanced at his partner one last time. "Probably at the new hide-out."

"Where?" Myriam asked firmly, but calmly.

"I don't know," Sturk eyed the Jedi nervously, "Everybody moves every couple of days now…."

"Where are you supposed to meet him?"

"We weren't. We have a job in the morning. We probably won't see much of him anymore. Word is he got a bump up the ladder."

Myriam frowned. She glanced up at Hannibal who was still fuming. "OK," she sighed and raised her hand, refocusing on her captor. "Sleep," Sturk instantly slumped back at the suggestion.

Hannibal spun on his heels leaving the gagging and sleeping gangsters behind him. Myriam rushed to catch up. "What was that back there? You almost killed him."

"Since when do you worry about some punks dying on you?" he shot back.

"We needed information. We weren't capturing or punishing him," She grabbed the sleeve of his robe and spun him to face her. Her dark eyes seemed to penetrate something deep within him. Until this moment, he had only appreciated them as part of her beauty, but there was something more powerful in her gaze. "You were acting in anger. I don't have to tell you, that is the Darkside."

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Finly kept the hologram of Tristan up as faces flashed across the screen from the official Republic and Jedi records. Faces also flashed across the screen of his own data pad from his own personal files. He could not help but stare in the hologram of Tristan's eyes. "Who are you?"

Finly heard a throat clear to the side, "Any luck?"

He turned to face Granger, "You know we don't do luck, Master. But no, nothing on the mysterious Mr. Tristan."

Granger sighed and stared at the hologram, "Who are you?"

"It's not surprising there is no record. The Vespecio Family is centered pretty deep in the Outer Rim. If that's where he's from, I'd be surprised if we do turn up anything."

"And most Force-sensitives that escape the attention of the Jedi are also from the Outer-Rim…." Granger thought aloud. "So there's nothing at all?"

"Well," Finly began, "not as far as an identity and not even much of an official criminal record. Some local authorities have him listed as a person of interest, but he's not on anyone's official Wanted lists either. However, he does have quite the reputation. He is very smart and as we saw has at least some knowledge of the Force."

"A powerful combination," Granger muttered.

Finly paused before carefully wording his next thought. "Master, what makes you so sure he's not a Sith?"

"Wellllll…" Granger sighed knowing that they were overdue for this conversation, "History records that the Sith were destroyed around…. Seven centuries ago?" Finly nodded in confirmation. So the Jedi Master continued, "Plus, it is not the first time the Jedi have encountered a Force, even a Darkside, user who has no formal training. The Sith were a Darkside discipline, just as the Jedi are disciplined in the Light. Like you said, he's smart, cunning, but he doesn't strike me a particularly disciplined." Granger dropped his eyes at the younger Jedi.

Finly mulled over the logic, then nodded in agreement. "Still it's fascinating….."

Granger sighed again. He shut off the hologram and paused the search on the monitor. "Finly, be careful. Mind your interests as well as your feelings. Even an academic fascination with the Darkside is still….."

"A fascination with the Darkside," Finly completed Granger's thought with an air of understanding. "I know Master and I am. Promise."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

When Iesha opened her eyes, the room was just as dark as it had been during her meditations. How long had she been there? Days? Hours? She had no idea. She moved the chains slightly and tried to move her legs. They were still bolted. Why had she been unable to free herself? Was it the will of the Force for her to be here? Why would the Force want her to endure torture? Sure she had struggled with her anger since her encounter with Zeakwon, but she had not given into it…..yet. By acting hastily, she had been captured. By being in captivity, she had finally taken the time to slow down, meditate properly. She had no choice. Maybe that was what the Force needed her to do. On the other hand, she still felt something gnawing away at her. Beneath her anger there was something else, the power that she felt telling her to give in and let go with full vent of it and she would be free, but her master had trained her too well. She knew that this was the Darkside. "Journey inward," Master Granger's advice echoed through her mind. "If you can defeat the Darkside within, then you can overcome any obstacle you may face from the outside." The proper power of the Force came from being at peace. She had not been at peace since she lost her lightsaber. She took a deep breath and let her eyes slowly shut.

**XXXXXXXXX**

"Are you packed," Tristan asked his new protégé.

"Yeah," Pierre looked up from his data pad seemingly a little distracted.

"What's the problem," Tristan was legitimately concerned, but also hopeful that Pierre did not turn out to be some sort of whiner.

"We've only had the Jedi for a couple of days. Don't know when we'll be back. I won't be able to crack her properly."

"Eh," Tristan mulled it over. "Toss her to the boys. You can interrogate what's left when we get back."

"If there's anything left," Pierre huffed. "Too bad, I wanted to test my skills with a Jedi….. and I wanted to have a turn too."

Both gangsters grinned at each other. "Well," Tristan offered, "We don't leave for a couple of hours…."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Crad and his associate argued as they made their way down the hall. "I'm tellin' you Pierre promised I could have a go at her. Keep your mouth shut and you can go next."

"But he said wait a week, it's only been a little over a day," the second gangster reminded Crad.

"She's been in there with no light, food, or water. If we tell her it's been a week, she'll believe it. She's probably crackin' up already."

Inside her cell, Iesha thought she could hear voices coming from the outside the door. Had it been a week already? A moment of panic gave way as she continued to focus on her breathing. She visualized the restraints holding her feet to the chair. _Clink._ The right one popped open. New found energy flooded through her. _Clink_, the second opened as well. She reached out with her senses outside the door.

"But she is a Jedi, Crad," his comrade offered.

"Only an apprentice," Crad corrected as he began to punch the entry code.

Iesha tried to swallow another moment of panic. She visualized the wrist restraints as she had done with her feet. Nothing happened. The sound of the keypad sent a surge of fear and desperation through her. Crad's words rekindled her simmering anger. She grabbed the chains with her hands and in a burst of rage stood up, tearing both chains from the floor.

The door opened. Crad turned on the lights to see an empty chair. "Where is she?" he muttered angrily.

His associate moved in to examine the chair, "Maybe Pierre already took her….."

Iesha dropped down from her perch above the door. She slammed her feet into the back of Crad's knees driving him to the floor and wrapped her chains around his neck. With a glance, she Force-pushed the other thug to the ground as well. She eyed him carefully as he struggled to get up and reach for his blaster. He only made it to his knees when he felt his throat close. His hands shot up trying to find the invisible hands that were choking him. Iesha leaned down to whisper in Crad's ear. "Watch carefully."

The Jedi padawan could have killed Crad's accomplice quickly, but she let him linger. She wanted Crad to watch the life slowly ebb out of his friend. When his body finally hit the floor, she spun Crad around to face the door. "Now, punch in the entry code. Don't try anything funny and I promise you will die quicker.

Reluctantly, Crad lifted his hand and typed in the code. He always wondered how he would act when his time came. He did not want to go out on his knees before a woman, but more importantly, he would not cry or beg for his life. With a ferocious yell, Iesha jerked the ends of both chains. Blood squirted from Crad's severed arteries as she nearly took his head off. She ripped each restraint from her wrist then spit on her would-be rapist. She looked around. Blood covered the floor, the control panel and the front of her robes. Her Jedi robes. She dropped to her knees and began to dry heave. She would have been sick, but there was nothing in her stomach.

Realizing that she was not out of danger, Iesha quickly gathered her senses and slowly made her way down the hall. There was a lift at the end of the hallway just beginning to open when she arrived. The doors split and the Jedi padawan stared into the eyes of a startled Pierre. They held the gaze for half a second before Pierre reached for his blaster. A hatred welled deep within Iesha. Before her captor had his blaster all the way from his holster, it was snatched from his hand and was flying into Iesha's. Without a moment's hesitation, she fired a shot sending Pierre slumping to the floor. She thought it unfortunate that it was only a stun blast. She examined the weapon. This was her first time using a blaster, but as if she had used one a thousand times, she switched it to full power and aimed again at the unconscious gangster. Before she could pull the trigger again, she caught another sight of her blood soaked robes. She looked at her would-be victim and moved the blaster back to stun. She had killed enough in cold-blood for one day. They would meet again, but next time she would be sure she had a lightsaber.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hannibal and Myriam looked down at the hideout from a roof across the street. They had scoped out many possibilities, but none produced Iesha, Pierre, or Tristan. This place had five guards in front of it, but all of them had been guarded. Nothing obvious made this one any different. Hannibal took a deep breath. "This one's it."

Myriam gave him a puzzled look. "How can you be sure?"

"I can feel her."

Myriam reached out with her senses. "There is something here, but I can't sense the padawan." She glanced at the guards through her binos. "How do you….." Hannibal was already in midair with his lightsaber open. "Fool."

Hannibal gave the guards a twisted smile when he hit the ground. Deflecting every blast they fired, he stuck out his hand to unleash a Force-push so violent that in knocked them all down and dented the door. "You didn't save any for me," Myriam landed behind him.

"Try to keep up," he half-heartedly joked back.

Myriam grinned igniting both lightsabers. She stepped in front of her partner and with a glance the door seemed to rip itself down. There were only a few guards in the entrance. Myriam easily deflected their attack. She looked back at Hannibal, "How's that for keeping up?"

The two Jedi made their way down the hall to another door. Before either of them could make a move the door slid open and several stun blasts shot from the darkness which were easily deflected by both. The blood-covered Iesha stumbled from the shadows ready to fire again. Myriam closed her sabers on the sight of the blood. "Padawan….. are you alright?"

Locking eyes with both of them, Iesha dropped the blaster. Hannibal rushed to catch her just before she collapsed to the ground.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Myriam tended to Iesha's wounds and started an IV before joining Hannibal in the cockpit of the transport. She glanced back to make sure Iesha was still sleeping. "So we should talk."

"About what?" Hannibal sighed.

"About you using the Darkside," she answered firmly.

He glanced up at her. "Are you going to snitch to Granger? Are you perfect? The Darkside lurks within all of us. You've never acted in anger?"

"I follow the path of the Jedi, when I feel anger rising, I remind myself of what I have been taught. I'm certain you are not the first Jedi to give vent for a time, but you can't blow this off like it's not a big deal."

"I guess we all weren't lucky enough to be trained by Yoda. I'll meditate as soon as we get back," Hannibal tried to sound sincere.

"You are not taking this seriously, that's the issue….."

"Not taking this seriously? You act like finding Iesha wasn't a priority. We found her. We accomplished the mission. What's the difference?"

"We were irrelevant," Myriam corrected. "She had already freed herself. There are many paths to reaching our goals. The Darkside just presents itself as a shortcut."

Iesha quietly roused herself from the bench behind her seniors. In theory she agreed with Myriam's words, but she also knew that her training had let her down today. It was the Darkside that had freed her.

Hannibal did not like being rebuked, but he recognized the wisdom in Myriam's words. "I know," he sighed. "It's just….. it was my fault she got captured. I had to get her back."

"What are you two talking about?" Iesha approached as though she had not heard the entire conversation.

"Just debriefing," Myriam offered. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Iesha mumbled looking down at her mostly cleaned robes. "Thank you."

"You would do the same for us," Myriam smiled. "Oh and I believe you were looking for this," Myriam unhooked the padawan's saber and handed it to her.

Iesha received it with her first smile in some time. "You looked pretty comfortable with two blades."

Myriam pondered the suggestion. "Green is not my color."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A few days had passed, since the Jedi rescued their team member. Pierre recovered from his stun blast and he was off with Tristan to see the big boss. Zeakwon passed the information along to Granger. He hoped that since they were so eager to learn more about Tristan, they would chase him for a while and give him some breathing room to rebuild things on Syllian. As he typed the access code to his new office, his worries crept back into him. Money would fix everything. And if he didn't start making some soon, he would be the boss with the shortest reign in the history of Syllian's very limited underworld. He would start with gambling, then get the bootlegging back on track. The Jedi did not seem to mind criminal activities as long as it did not turn violent. Otherwise he would have no cover and they would have no contact in to the larger underground world.

Zeakwon stepped inside and began to take off his jacket and holster. A violent force knocked him back into the door just as it closed. From the ground, he looked up into Iesha's eyes that seemed to flare with rage just as powerful as the flare from the green blade of her lightsaber. "Your boss know you're here little girl?"

Iesha lowered the blade and burned a spot high on Zeakwon's thigh, just below his crotch. He howled in pain and surprise, "What the frosh is this?"

Iesha raised the blade to illuminate her face. "If you ever treat me with anything less the same respect you show my master, ever again, you will become….." She glanced down at the burn, "less of a man." Zeakwon started to protest. Iesha raised her hand and clenched her fist. The crime boss of Syllian began to grasp for air. "If you ever lay a hand on me again, I'll kill you." She unclenched her fist. Zeakwon relaxed, but gasped for air. "And if you tell Master Granger that I was here, you will wish you were dead long before I kill you." She opened the door and stepped over his gasping body to leave.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Myriam entered Granger's quarters as he sat at a small table studying a data pad. "You wanted to see me, Master?"

"Yes," the Granger acknowledged, setting down the pad. "I've read your reports, what is your assessment of your mission to rescue Iesha?"

Myriam knew what her leader was getting at, but played slightly confused. "You want an oral report?"

Granger rose from his seat and walked to his window. "You know what I dislike about the Jedi Council?" He did not wait for a reply. "When they play politics, pitting Jedi against each other. So I'll be direct. Did you sense anything odd about Hannibal on this mission?"

"What do you mean?" _Are you going to snitch to Granger?_ Myriam felt no particular loyalty to Hannibal, but she did understand his struggle. Surely it was common to all Jedi. If he was making an honest effort to overcome the Darkside within him, would it help or complicate things to alert Granger? And where exactly was the line in being deceived by the Darkside and crossing over to it?

Granger understood Myriam's reluctance to report on her teammate, but they both had a greater obligation. "I thought I sensed something about him. You were around him the entire time, perhaps you sensed it too. I understand this puts you in an awkward position, but Jedi Myriam, we have a code to follow. Did your fellow Jedi succumb to the Darkside?"

Did he succumb? And if he did once, does that guarantee that he will again? "Master… I sensed….. the seeds of the Darkside. I can't really say if he gave into it or not."

Granger pondered her answer. "Fair enough. Thank you. We have to keep our eyes out for each other. Any of us could be guilty if we're not careful, even me. We all have the seeds of the Darkside with us. We cannot have them sprouting right under our noses."

"Of course not, Master," Myriam nodded and dismissed herself.


	8. Chapter 8: Teamwork Part 1

**Teamwork: Part 1**

Finly stared out of the window into hyperspace. "The Outer Rim," he unintentionally said aloud.

Iesha looked up from the data pad she had been studying. Granger gave a quick glance in acknowledgement, then returned his attention to the ships controls. Iesha made her way to the window to also note the passing stars. "It's my first time out here. What about you?"

"Once a couple of years ago, when I was still a padawan, but not as deep as we're going now," Finly answered.

"Nobody goes as far as we are on any kind of legitimate business," Granger joined the conversation. "Where we are headed, the Republic does not exist and the Jedi have no authority."

Finly could not help, but feel a little nervous. "Then…..why are we going?"

"Because we have a mission," Granger paused. He knew that was all that ultimately needed to be said, but for the sake of reassurance, he added, "Our charge is to protect Syllian. The best defense is a good offense. One day we may have to come out here in force, but for the present we are only on a scouting mission."

Finly knew that much before he even asked, what he wanted to know was why he was here instead of Myriam or Hector or anyone more qualified to fight their way out of a tough situation. "So how far out have you been, Master?"

"I've been to the Outer Rim several times, mostly as a padawan, but some as a Knight and Master. Some places are friendly to the Republic, even desire to become full-fledged members. Some are independent allies or neutral. Some give lip-service to the Republic, just to keep us out of their hair and some… well, I do not think we even cross their minds."

"So Master Wagalog spent a lot of time out here, right?" Finly jumped at the chance to learn more about Granger's former master.

Granger turned his attention back to the controls, "right," was all he offered in response.

Iesha desperate for a change of subject, brought up a slightly new question. "Is anyone on the team from the Outer Rim?"

"Myriam is," Finly answered, "but I'm not exactly sure where. Her files are….. difficult to access."

"Yeah, I noticed that when I was doing research when the team was forming. Why would that be?" Iesha pondered.

"She came to the Jedi pretty late. Almost too old from my understanding," Granger rejoined the conversation. "Which I suppose is why Yoda took her on himself."

"Yoda….." Finly mumbled obviously awe struck.

"Finly….." Granger began a correction.

"I know, I know," Finly cut him off. "Where are you from, Iesha?"

"Corellia," she muttered.

"Oh yeah," Finly remembered, "So is Hector."

"And you are obviously Sullustan, but were you born there?" Iesha inquired of her teammate.

"Actually, my family moved to Corellia several generations ago."

"Cool," Iesha responded. "You can never have too many Correllians around."

Finly grinned and redirected his attention to Granger, "And Master, you've from Alderan? I've never been, but I hear it's beautiful."

"I am. And it is," Granger did not lift his eyes from the controls. "But I've actually only been there once since I became a Jedi."

Knowing her master did not like to talk about his family almost as much as he did not like to talk about his former master, Iesha continued the home planet discussion. "So Numa is Nanatollian, where is Hannibal from?"

"Oh he's Corusant through and through," Granger beat Finly to the answer.

"Figures," Iesha muttered.

"We'll be coming up on Markuria soon. We will land at a public space port and find a busy cantina. If it is like most planets in the Outer Rim, that is our best bet at finding information," Granger paused and studied the younger Jedi. This was actually a fairly light mission, but the potential for great danger was possible. "Remember, this is a scouting mission. Keep your eyes and ears open and your senses sharp. They neither respect nor fear Jedi here, but most will also want to avoid attention. Just mind your surroundings at all times."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The ramp of the shuttle descended. Tristan walked down followed closely by a wide-eyed Pierre. Pierre had never been off of Syllian before, much less this far from it. He looked at the group that had gathered to receive them. A well-dressed man emerged from the center. As he walked towards Tristan he spread his arms and grinned big. "Is that who I think it is?" Pierre asked slightly in awe.

"Just be cool," Tristan reassured him. Pierre took a deep breath. He was truly in the big league now.

"My brother," Vespecio wrapped his arms around Tristan at the bottom of the ramp. "You've been gone too long."

"That is for sure," Tristan answered turning towards Pierre and putting a hand on his shoulder. "This is my new right hand for Syllian business. The future of our organization."

Pierre gulped as Vespecio patted his other shoulder. "So this is the one who captured a Jedi. Too bad she got away so easily…." Vespecio gave a very serious look at the rookie, then he and Tristan burst in to laughter as the big boss gave Pierre a light punch in the chest. "Relax kid, nobody else out here can say they roped a Jedi before." He then snapped at the henchmen behind him. "Take care of our friend here. Get him settled in real good."

As the crowd left, Vespecio turned to his dear friend. "Let's you and I get a drink."

Soon Tristan was back in Vespecio's office, sitting across the desk from his boss. He eyed the spot just over Vespecio's shoulder. That was where he usually stood during official meetings. He was there to intimidate friend or foe. That was how they operated, Vespecio had enough reputation of his own to strike fear into pretty much anyone he met. But it was Tristan who could make grown men lose control of their bladders. Together they turned Vespecio's strangle hold on the system into nearly an empire. Whether people were more afraid of the boss or his enforcer, people knew who ran Markuria. The Family was more powerful than the government.

"So what's the word on Syllian?" Vespucio asked as he poured a drink.

Tristan sighed, "I'm afraid the heyday is behind us. The Jedi got it locked down, but Zeakwon's smart. He can scratch out a living for himself and keep kicking up to us. And it will be good to have a solid connect within Republic space, but we should lay low until the Jedi turn their attention elsewhere."

Vespecio let the words sink in. "This may be the first time you've let me down," he grinned, but when he saw that Tristan did not share the humor, he moved on. "Just as well, I need you back here. We have bigger problems brewing."

"The Black Sun?" Tristan raised an eyebrow as he pushed back the brim of his hat. "Heard they were up to something big.

"Yeah, we're expecting them to start making moves here any time now, but I suspect they're actually being manipulated by Jabba."

"The Hutt? The pimp's son?" Tristan was surprised at the revelation.

Vespucio laughed. "Give the slug a little credit. He's been more than just Zorbra's son for a couple of centuries now. Plus he almost has as much control over Tatooine as we have here. It's only natural that he wants to branch out a bit."

"But why here? We're pretty far from Tatooine and there's plenty of other places that would be easier to control if he only wants to expand," Tristan tried to wrap his mind around the logic.

"We and the Black Sun are his biggest competition. If he can pick a fight between us, then he can pick the bones off the leftovers."

"If we know they're being manipulated, why don't they know it?" Tristan redirected.

"There have been a few incidents in Black Sun territory recently that I think Jabba has pinned on us…..and let's be honest we do have some operations on their turf," the boss let go a light laugh.

"And they have a few here, I'm sure," Tristan agreed. "Still manipulating the Black Sun…. I thought Jabba was smarter than that. Figured he would know not to bite off even more than a Hutt could chew."

"Well," Vespucio grinned, "He wants everybody to know who has the biggest flesh-saber."

"Well obviously I do," Tristan's smile turned into a laugh when he was joined by the boss.

"I'm glad you're back,"Vespecio poured them both another drink.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Iesha surveyed the room for hundredth time. More waiting…. And the last time she was in a bar, she lost her lightsaber. She was struggling to hold onto her patience. Finly laid a small data pad on the table. "I have it configured to pick up key phrases. It can hear farther than even Jedi ears can. Maybe we can enjoy our drinks for a minute?"

Granger shrugged, "Overhearing anything is a long shot anyway."

The three Jedi sipped their drinks and stared in silence for a few minutes. There was a question burning within Iesha, but she was not sure just how too ask it. She took another sip, "Master, what is wrong about the Darkside?"

Granger was not quite sure how to take the question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean….." the padawan realized she was not quite sure how to word the question. "Why is it bad? Isn't it part of the Force too?"

Granger pondered the question. It was not a new one and possibly unanswerable, but he knew it could not be blown off. "Think of it like this," he began slowly. "If you are walking through a park at night, the path will be lighted. There may be twists and turns, but it will prove to be the 'right' way to go," the Jedi Master paused to make sure that he had her attention. "It may actually prove shorter to go off of the lighted path through the shadows, but your boots will get muddy. You will not be able to see where you are going. You may fall and hurt yourself or set yourself up for someone or something hiding in the darkness."

Iesha pondered the answer. "So let's say a person gets through the darkness a few times with minimal problems. After a few trips, won't they know the way well enough to walk it almost as well or even better than the light?"

"True," Granger pondered. "That's if they pass through the darkness unscathed the first few times. And even if they begin to make a habit of it, they are playing a dangerous game. The darkness hides much even from those who think they can see in it."

Finly intervened. "Think about this. The Darkside is fueled by a person's anger, pride, fear, hatred and whatnot. The average person in a fit of anger will get a burst of adrenaline and be able to perform with above average strength, etc. Now, a professional athlete, will train their body to perform so that they can call up superior strength, speed, and so forth when they need it. Otherwise they would have to depend on emotions to perform and of course emotions are unpredictable."

Iesha rolled the explanations around in her mind. Granger could not help, but stare at the young knight. He was impressed with Finly's insight. Their attention slowly turned back to the floor of the cantina. Finly checked his datapad. "I don't think anyone is going to talk openly about Vespecio Family business."

Granger sighed, "Tonight, I was hoping just to get a feel of the atmosphere so that as we move about later, we could know how and who to tactfully ask."

Finly scanned the floor again. He noticed a sabacc game in the corner, "Just sitting here doesn't seem to be helping. I'll be back."

Before the Master or the padawan could object, Finly rose, strode across the floor and asked the group of players, "Room for one more?"

"What do you know about these cards, fish-face?" the dealer shot back.

Finly grinned, "I played once before, think I can remember."

The gamblers glanced at each other in a mutual suppressed laugh. "Well, pull up a chair then," one of them invited.

Republic credits were not even worth as much as scrap metal in this part of the galaxy, but the deed to their ship was. It bought Finly enough chips to begin to play. After several hours, he had cleaned out most of the players that he started with and several others who had joined the game later. The last player eventually rose, and stumbled away from the table, "lucky bastard."

Finly collected his winnings and joined Granger and Iesha a few blocks from the bar. "Finly," Iesha greeted him excitedly. "That was impressive. I didn't know you knew sabacc so well."

"Eh," Finly blew off the compliment. "It's all stats and calculations. And trusting the Force to know when someone's bluffing helps too."

Granger grinned, "Did you learn anything useful?"

"Maybe," Finly began, "Nobody really talks about Vespecio business. However, he does own a major spot on the other side of the planet." He handed his winnings to Granger. "If we buy you some new clothes tomorrow, that should at least get you through the door." Iesha snickered at the thought of her master in fine attire. "And I got the names of a couple of places that I suspect his people frequent. I can see what I can pull up on them when we get back to the ship."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Finly was still scanning the databases when an obviously uncomfortably dressed Granger emerged from his quarters. "Not as roomy as Jedi robes," Granger squirmed in his suit. Finly suppressed a laugh.

A smile spread across Iesha's face. She rarely admitted it to herself, but in her personal moments, she had to confess that her feelings for her master were...complicated. Seeing her master in his distinguished, if not awkward, attire made her blush. "Let me help you out." She approached him to straighten his slightly askew tie.

They locked eyes for a moment. "Thank you," Granger muttered.

There was nothing but sincerity in his voice and Iesha knew that, however she held the gaze as long as possible. Her hands left the tie and slid down his chest. "Of course, Master." The padawan quickly turned to a nearby consul and pretended to engage in something productive.

"So where will you two be headed while I'm off being a clown?"

I ran a few places through the database," Finly began. "One that kept coming up has the highest cases of incidents on the planet."

"So you will start there then?" Granger clarified.

"It may be our second stop, "Finly seemed to think aloud more than talk. When he realized the others were waiting, he continued. "Another place that was mentioned around the sabacc table had almost no reports to the authorities…."

"But if it is so popular amongst the underworld…." Granger seemed to catch on.

"And the regulars work for the guy who controls the planet….."Iesha jumped in as well.

"Then they probably keep the business away from the 'proper' authorities," Finly concluded with a grin.

"Good work," Granger nodded in approval. "Well, I'm off. Remember, you are just observing. May the Force be with you."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The transport dropped Finly and Iesha just a few blocks from the cantina. Iesha could see that her senior was bothered, but unsure how to broach the subject. "Finly, you ready for this?"

"We're just keeping our eyes open, right? No problem."

"Are you sure?" Iesha tried not to sound pushy.

"Yeah….. why do you ask?"

Iesha sighed. "There's clearly something bothering you….. not being nosy, just saying…."

Finly sighed as well. "I just….. I'm not sure why I am here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this is a dangerous mission. Why am I here instead of Myriam or Hector? They are more suited for this sort of thing….. And to be honest, I don't think Master Granger likes me….."

The pair slowed as they approached the door of the cantina. Iesha laughed aloud at the idea of her Master not liking anyone. "You're kidding right? Who is better suited for this mission? You found this place, didn't you? Master knows that. He has a gift for seeing people's strengths. And sure, maybe he finds some of your questions annoying at times, but he knows you are a valuable member of this team. Or trust me you would not be here."

Finly pondered the argument. "Maybe….."

"No maybe," Iesha continued. "Your Darkside explanation is possibly the best I've heard. Even my Master was impressed. I could tell. Trust me."

Finly grinned, "Thanks, Iesha. I needed to hear that."

"No problem. And thank you," she reassured her teammate.

"Thanks for what?"

"Thank you for calling me Iesha, not just padawan."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Granger cautiously made his way through the front of the club. He tried not to look uncomfortable or out of place, but even deep breathing and attempting to center himself around the living Force were little help against the tight suit he had wedged himself into. He found the central bar and as casually as he could leaned himself against it to order a drink. "What ya havin?" the bartender inquired.

'Ummmmm….." Granger tried to sound like he was thinking instead of hesitating. He also tried not to appear rushed without taking too long. Everything was a delicate balance. He finally decided on something that sounded sophisticated. Within seconds, he had his drink. He tried again to act natural. The Jedi Master nodded at passing people that he sensed were important and the beautiful women who did not appear to be with someone else. Some of them smiled back. Some walked as though they never saw him. He tried to visualize the countless men he had observed in cantinas and clubs like this one and mimic their behavior. For some reason, his mind turned to Tristan. He envisioned himself standing as Tristan. Drinking like Tristan. It then occurred to him that the only time he had ever observed the elusive right-hand-man of Vespecio was in the courtyard on Syllian. Then it hit him that the Force was speaking to him. _He's here._

Granger repressed his excitement and slowly scanned the crowd. He could not see Tristan anywhere, but he was compelled toward a corner of the main floor. He made his way slowly in the direction of a crowd of mostly men around the table. His eyes fell on a familiar face. Even without the black hat, Granger recognized the man who imprisoned his padawan. Granger wondered if there was any chance that the enforcer had seen his face. Was Zeakwon working whole-heartedly for the Jedi? What could he have told his bosses?

Granger almost decided to keep his distance when he noticed the well-dressed man with which Tristan was mostly conversing. The Jedi Master's first thought was Pierre, but the mystery man was far too old. He appeared to be somewhat important. Could this be Vespecio himself? No way Granger could leave now. He made his way closer to the crowd.

The excitement centered around a sabacc game in progress. Granger eased his way next to Tristan. "Who's ahead?"

Tristan eyed the newcomer carefully. "We betting on the players. For the moment our guy's up."

"Mind if I get in?" Granger reached in his suit for a wad of credits.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

As soon as she entered the cantina, Iesha felt something that she had never experienced. A wave of familiarity came crashing down on here. The feeling was not déjà vu, but there was definitely a sense of recognition. The Force was definitely trying to tell or warn her about something, but she had never been hit with it like this before. "What's wrong?" Finly's voice interrupted her thoughts.

The padawan had not realized that she had frozen in her tracks. "I don't know….. I sense something…... something familiar…"

Finly resisted the urge to reach for his data pad and visually scanned the room. "Any idea what?"

Iesha shook her head as much to clear her mind as to answer "no" to the question. "Let's just find a table."

The pair found an empty table in the middle of traffic. It was not the ideal spot for laying low, but it did put them within ear shot of the various bar conversations. As discreetly as possible, Finly began an extended scan of the room through his data pad. He did not really expect to find anything useful, but he hoped that he could get a better feel of the place. Iesha scanned the room with her eyes and attempted to stretch out her senses through the Force. She thought about the sensation at the door. She thought about her prison break. She wasn't feeling anything in the cantina now. Lately it felt like the Force was using her more than she was using it. Maybe that is how she should feel. Maybe that is how it was supposed to work. Maybe she was maturing in her abilities and did not even realize it. Was she closer to becoming a knight than even she realized? Her eyes found a lively sabacc table. There was nothing unusual about it, the usual ruckus. However, as she observed the players and spectators, the sensation of familiarity returned. She slowly scanned each face, searching for one she recognized. Finally, she found one, Pierre's.

"Bastard!" Finly nearly dropped his data pad and fell from his seat as Iesha screamed, leaping from her chair, and the green blade of her lightsaber sprung to life.

Pierre overcame his momentary shock at the outburst and grinned in delight as he and his comrades drew their blasters. The surrounding spectators were also delighted. Most had never seen a Jedi, or at least not in this part of the galaxy. Did the young girl have a deahwish? Iesha could think of nothing, but Pierre. She was consumed by thoughts of revenge. The last time they met, he was unarmed. Now she had her lightsaber and he was the one holding the blaster. This was the moment she had dreamed of.

There was still half a bar between the padawan and the sabacc players when she met the first barrage of blaster fire. Iesha deflected the blasts either back into the respective shooters or the floor of the cantina. Blocking the blasts slowed her advance and she knew that she could move faster if she was not careful with her deflections. Nearly everyone in the bar had to be guilty of something. There were no innocent bystanders that she should be concerned for. However, her composure had not completely departed. Surprisingly, her anger seemed to help her focus. She had only one goal, but she was not so far gone that she completely disregarded her training. The anger also gave her a surge of power like she had never felt. She enjoyed the feeling. Too bad that once she killed Pierre her anger would be over and this power would come to an end.

This was exactly the situation that Finly had hoped to avoid, but he knew that he could not allow his fear to win the battle within him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Although no time seemed to have passed, when he opened his eyes, he was next to Iesha with the green beam of his saber also deflecting blasts. "Have you lost your mind?"

"It's Pierre," Iesha tried to point with her voice. As the pair inched toward her goal.

"I see that," Finly shot back. "I can sense your anger. Are you using the froshin' Darkside?"

Iesha was not ready for the question. Finly was worried about the Darkside while they stared down the man who….who…. What exactly had he done to her? He stunned her. She had been roughed up, but not severely beaten. He tried to starve her. He had not raped her although she knew that he thought about it and had threatened to. Certainly that bothered her, but what was she really angry about? He had not respected her as a Jedi. She was not a Jedi. Pierre had called her a padawan. Actually, he had not, Crad did and he was already dead. She was a padawan. A padawan who was endangering her mission. A padawan who had placed the life of a fellow Jedi in great danger. A padawan who still had a lot to learn about the Force.

Iesha stopped dead in her tracks. She nudged her head towards a side door. "We should probably get out of here."

"After them," Pierre barked as the two Jedi made a run for their escape.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Granger had been betting on hands for nearly an hour. He followed Finly's advice, mostly about relying on the Force and not attempting to calculate odds. Tristan, his well-dressed associate, and several other observers were now following his bets. The crowd seemed to part slightly as another well-dressed man hurriedly made his way to Tristan's other side. The new arrival whispered something obviously important in Tristan's ear. Slight concerned crossed the henchman's face before he matter-of-factly whispered to his boss, "The Jedi are here."

"Poodoo," Granger unintentionally mumbled just loud enough to catch all three men's attention.

"What's it to you, friend?" Tristan eyed Granger carefully.

Without hesitation, Granger began to gather his winnings from the table. "They must have found me."

Tristan and Vespecio eyed each other carefully. The boss gave a slight nod. "Come with me," Tristan whispered forcefully, showing his blaster beneath his jacket.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Iesha held her lit saber firmly behind her back as she ran. She hated the idea of running from a fight, but she hated even more that it was a fight she had started. _A Jedi uses their lightsaber primarily for defense, _Master Granger's training echoed in her mind. _Be careful using it aggressively. This is often from the Darkside. _She heard Finly's panting as they ran. _Are you using the froshin' Darkside? _She knew he could use a rest, but the occasional blast from behind told her that they had not run far enough. "Just a little farther," she urged her comrade. "We'll find a good place to hide or make a stand."

The pair continued their flight. They rounded a corner and were suddenly hit by what they both knew to be a blast from the Force. Finly landed squarely on the ground while Iesha hit the wall of the building. Their eyes focused on Granger standing in the middle of the alley with Tristan standing next to him, blaster drawn. "How did you Jedi find me?" Granger asked pretending to be angry while hoping that they would play along.

Finly sprang to his feet, before Iesha could respond. "Come quietly, you rogue!" He charged dramatically as Tristan raised his blaster to fire. His saber absorbed a couple of blasts while Granger eyed the weapon in the gangster's hand. It suddenly exploded.

Tristan doubled over in agony with his hand cradled in his chest. "Go," Granger mouthed to his teammates and pointed with his eyes farther down the alley.

Pierre and crew rounded the corner soon after the pair disappeared from sight. Without raising his hand, Granger used a Force push to trip one of the larger thugs, knocking over most of the group. They quickly recovered to notice the injured Tristan.

Still favoring his wounded hand, Tristan straightened himself and turned to Granger. "Talk fast. Who are you?" He nodded at the spot where Finly had fallen. "How did you do that?"


	9. Chapter 9: Teamwork: Part 2

**Teamwork Part 2**

Hannibal nearly vomited as he coughed and his half-taken shot of whiskey hit the table. "Are you a padawan or a real Jedi?" Myriam almost seemed to grin.

Hector's eyes slowly moved across each of his companion's faces in the circle. Numa grinned and puffed her nargila as she set her shot glass down. Hannibal was now almost doubled over with coughing and gagging. Myriam ordered another round. "None of you have a problem with drinking on the job? Or drinking period? I mean as Jedi…"

"No," was all that Myriam offered as the next round arrived.

"It's not forbidden," Hannibal replied. "Although whatever that was should be….."

Numa puffed again, "Our goal is to end attachment. Yet we all seem to have our vices. Mine is this." She exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Myriam's," the Nautolan lifted her glass. "Hannibal doesn't respect women…"

"I have nothing but respect for women….." Hannibal tried to defend himself.

Hector chuckled, "In fairness, he doesn't really respect other lifeforms in general."

Hannibal pushed his remaining shot and a half across the table towards Myriam, "We all can't be like Mr. Perfect over here." He nodded at Hector.

Numa eyed the clean-cut Jedi for a moment. "Hector struggles with pride. His sense of importance is tied to his abilities with his lightsaber."

Hannibal nearly doubled over again. This time with laughter. "He does enjoy playing with his saber."

Hector tried not to sound offended. "Shouldn't we all be striving to be the best? And I don't need my lightsaber to feel confident….."

"Very well," Myriam spoke up again and pointed with her chin at the cantina door. The two criminals they were waiting for had just entered. "Apprehend those two without using your lightsaber."

Hector hesitated, but slowly rose from his seat. "Very well, I may be the only one in the proper condition anyway."

Numa exhaled another cloud, "We're here if you need backup."

The two criminals leaned against the bar and appeared to be talking shop as Hector strode over to them. He straightened himself and cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, in the name of the Jedi Council of the Republic, you are under arrest."

"Get lost, Jedi," the thug on the right muttered as both pulled their blasters.

Hector extended an empty hand. The blaster of each man slowly rose and turned to point at the opposite's head. Both of their arms struggled against the Force to change directions. "I said," Hector tried not to let his voice shake as he concentrated on each arm, "you are under arrest. Surrender."

"And I said, get lost," the man on the right yelled as he managed to swing his arm back in Hector's direction. The blue blade of Myriam's lightsaber extended just in time to block the bolt from the blaster and deflect it back into the man standing to the left. Without showing his own surprise, Hector eyed the wanted man over the lightsaber hanging in the air as if wielded by an invisible hand. "Surrender," the Jedi repeated. The criminal glanced in shock at his fallen comrade and promptly dropped his blaster.

"Good job, buddy," Hannibal patted his friend's shoulder as he passed to restrain their prisoner. Numa called for security to clean up the dead suspect as she made her way to the door.

The suspended lightsaber shut down and flew back to Myriam's hand as she approached Hector. He reluctantly turned to face her. "You're welcome," she mumbled coldly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Various objects floated around Hector's room as he sat with his eyes closed in the middle of the floor. He attempted to feel the Force flowing through him and around the room. Random objects hovered around him as his mind reached out to them. The power of the Force was definitely alive in his quarters. Now it was time to harness it with some fine tuning. His mind touched the glass of water on the floor about 5 feet in front of him. _Remember to move the cup and the water_. His master taught him. _If you move only the cup, you will spill the water. If you move only the water, you will also spill water._

The glass rose one foot off of the ground. Hector extended his hand to provide the glass a resting place when it finished its journey to him… but this would not be the case. The door to his quarters suddenly slid open. "Hey, I thought we could….." Before Hannibal could complete his thought, the glass and some of the other objects crashed to the floor. Hector managed to catch a few objects with his thoughts and set them gently in their place, but he would still be cleaning for a while.

"Ooops….." Hannibal muttered. Noticing the smashed glass and puddle, he looked in confusion at his friend. "Were you practicing cup and water drills?"

"Yeah….." Hector tried not to sound embarrassed for practicing a technique that Hannibal probably had not even thought about since youngling training.

"Why?" Hannibal's tone confirmed Hector's embarrassment.

"I need to work on my fine tuning. These are good drills."

"But why?" Hector reemphasized. "Because you think Myriam showed you up the other day? We all need to be bailed out from time to time."

"It's not just that, Myriam can fight with her saber without even holding it. Numa can lower shields and activate hyperdrives with her mind. And I couldn't even hold that mynock's arm for a few seconds….. Obviously, I need to practice."

"Eh, Numa's right. You're too competitive. She's nearly a master of course she should be stronger in the Force than us. And Myriam's... well…. Myriam."

"But I will never get to their levels if I don't practice," Hector protested.

"The Force will do what the Force will do," Hannibal rolled his eyes. "You need to get out. Let's hit the streets and patrol a while."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The two Jedi strolled leisurely through the streets. Not too long ago, they would need to be on their guard in this section of the city, but due to their sweeps, most cities on Syllian were nearly crime-free. Just as Hector and Hannibal began to chat about what a great job they had been doing, a child jumped from behind a rubbish bin, grabbed Hector's lightsaber and ran down the alley.

"Hey!" the robbed Jedi yelled as he extended his hand. The lightsaber was immediately snatched from the boy's hand nearly taking his arm with it. The child flew backwards nearly ten feet before letting go.

"Not smart, kid," was all that Hannibal offered as his companion returned his saber to its proper place. Before he could continue to chide the lad, he heard snickering near the bin. A small group of children had witnessed the entire incident.

"They dared me to do it," the boy on the ground protested, rubbing his shoulder.

"Great," Hector rolled his eyes, "We're being taken on by children now. Look, kid…" Hector's own reprimand was cut short when the boy's eyes suddenly grew wide and his face turned pale. He buried his head in the ground as best he could as both Jedi were hit by numerous stun blasts.

Ronisha, the oldest of the kids, stood almost as wide-eyed over the now unconscious Hector and Hannibal with a blaster in her hands. "Where did you get that thing?" Jenaid hopped up from the ground nearly panicked.

"It fell off a transport," she grinned still not quite believing what she had done. She looked around at her companions. "Grab em. We should be able to get a good reward for em."

"Reward from who?" Jenaid started to ask, but quickly changed his mind with another thought. "I get the laser swords!" He dove for the fallen Jedi, searching through their robes for the cherished weapons. He quickly found both of them. His arms felt a charge of excitement that he could barely contain. Then he glanced around the crowd. "Anybody know how to work these things?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Jessie's henchmen sat in a semi-circle around his desk. They discussed the usual business or more accurately, how to avoid the Jedi in order to conduct the usual business. The door slid open. Another underling entered to interrupt the proceedings, "Uh, boss. I think you need to see this."

The crowd of children barged through, dragging the Jedi with them. Hector's stun was just beginning to wear off as he was dropped again to the ground, but he continued to play unconscious and stretched out with his feelings.

"What the frosh is this?" Jessie demanded.

"We caught these two Jedi and want a reward," Ronisha poked out her chest and announced matter-of-factly.

"You caught…" Jessie was astounded. He remembered what happened the last time a Jedi had been captured. He ruled out taking them to Zeakwon. He pondered taking them to Pierre, then he thought of what would happen to him when Myriam found out. "Look kid, I'm very impressed, but are you insane? Get them out of here. The Jedi are just beginning to back off so that we can do a respectable amount of business. The last thing we need right now, is this kind of attention."

"But I want a reward," Ronisha demanded.

"Reward? Your reward is that you don't disappear yourself. Now get them out of… on second thought….. leave the Jedi and you get out of here."

Ronisha raised her blaster, "I want a reward."

By this time the henchmen had risen from their chairs. The one closest to Jessie grinned as he glanced at his boss. "I got your reward, little girl." He raised his own blaster and began to squeeze the trigger.

"No," Jenaid screamed igniting the two sabers almost by instinct and leaping in front of the frightened Ronisha. The bolt from the thug's blaster seemed to freeze in midair. Everyone in the room seemed to freeze as well, more from shock than any influence from the Force. It took several seconds before anyone noticed Hector had risen to one knee and extended his hand. The frozen bolt inched back towards the blaster from which it originated as Hector rose to his feet. When he stood full height, it sprung back to life and blasted the man who fired it.

Jessie raised both hands and locked eyes with Hector. "I had nothing to do with this."

"We know that," a groggy Hannibal also rose to his feet. Turning to a shaking Jenaid, he reached for the two ignited lightsabers. "That took a lot of guts kid, but I think you're out of your league."

Jenaid closed the blades and handed them back to Hannibal. "I wanna be a Jedi."

Hector and Hannibal glanced at each other. "Wouldn't hurt to have him tested I suppose," Hannibal offered.

"Least we could do," Hector muttered. He turned back to Jessie. "Let's just forget this whole thing happened.

"Meet us outside," Hannibal ordered the kids. He then handed Hector his lightsaber. "How'd you do that?"

"Not sure," Hector stared at the burnt body. "I just knew it needed to happen and….. well….. it did."

"Those drills do pay off after all, huh?" Hannibal conceded.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hector sat in the middle of his room. He slowly opened his eyes to view the cup of water. It was floating in front of his face, upside down with the water still inside. Reaching out with his mind, he rotated it in the air several turns before gently setting it on the floor in front of him. The other floating objects around the room slowly descended to their proper place. A satisfied grin spread across his face. _Hector struggles with pride. _The sound from his comlink broke the silence. "You awake, buddy?"

"Yeah, you test the kid?"

"Yeah," Hannibal sounded a little disappointed. "Lowest count I've ever seen."

"Too bad," Hector offered. "He's got a lot of heart. Maybe we should stay in touch with him anyway."

"Already gave him a communicator. Hannibal out."

Hector cleared his mind again. The lightsaber on his table now rose and floated through the air, landing gently in his lap, a Jedi's weapon. He closed his eyes and took another breath.


	10. Chapter 10: Teamwork: Part 3

**Teamwork Part 3**

The crew had this down to a science. Two of them unloaded the truck while the other two stood lookout. The drivers of the transport would be in the café for three minutes. It took thirty seconds to hack the door open, one minute for each man to grab an armload and thirty more seconds to close and reseal the door. The hacker almost had the door open when he heard a crash behind him. His unloading partner spun on his heels. "You hear that?" The hacker did not pause for more than a second as his partner continued to scan the alley. Just as the transport door slid open, one of the lookouts came plummeting from his hidden nest. His unconscious body hit the middle of the alley, putting both thieves on alert.

"Is that one or both?" the hacker asked. It did not matter. The unwritten rule was that if anything went wrong, actually nothing had to go wrong, if something just did not feel right, they got out of there. This however, was very wrong.

Before either could react, Ronisha stepped from the shadows, blaster in hand and let loose two stun blasts. She made her way to the open door of the transport before either body could hit the pavement. Before she could hop into the back of the truck, Numa and Myriam descended from the lookouts' posts, hitting the pavement behind the young girl. "Thanks for the assist, kid, but we'll take it from here," Myriam warned the youngling from taking anything from the transport.

Ronisha spun and released two more stun volleys. Numa extended a hand directing the first blast back into the second. Before Ronisha could squeeze off another round, Myriam extended her hand. The blaster was snatched from Ronisha's grip, flying into the Jedi's.

"Nowhere to run, kid. Now where'd you get this thing?" Myriam tried to keep her voice gentle, but firm.

"It fell off the back of a transport…" Ronisha started.

"Like those other goods were about to do, I suppose," Numa corrected.

"I ain't no snitch, Jedi, not like Jenaid. And I ain't scared of you either."

Myriam could not help, but admire the spunk in the child's voice. "And there is no reason to. Now where did you get this?" She held the blaster out again.

The delivery drivers came running back out to their open transport by this time. Before either of them could speak, Numa reassured them, "Everything is fine, gentlemen."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ronisha shoveled the hot food into her mouth as she sat across the table from the two Jedi. It was delicious and she was starving. She had passed this same café, maybe a hundred times before, but never dreamed she could afford to eat here. She swallowed whole what she stuffed in her mouth. She would never tell the Jedi anything, but she was not going to turn down free food either.

"OK, kid," Myriam set the blaster on the table, "tell us where you got this."

"It's mine. I want it back. I and don't have to tell you anything, Jedi," Ronisha huffed with a full mouth.

"Have it your way, kid," Myriam waved her hand in front of her. "Tell us where you got the blaster."

"No, I said," Ronisha muttered.

Myriam and Numa gave each other a surprised glance. Numa waved her hand. "You will tell us where you acquired the blaster."

"Are you Jedi deaf or stupid? No," Ronisha reiterated firmly.

"Tough kid," Myriam again admired. "Fine. Who's….. what'd you call him? Jenaid?"

"He's a bantha's birth canal," Ronisha mumbled, taking a sip of her drink before resuming her chewing. She glance at both the Jedi. "You know damn well who he is. Those other two took him with them after I caught 'em."?

"Caught who?" Numa leaned in.

"Those other two Jedi," Ronisha clarified.

"You caught two Jedi," Myriam now leaned in. "How?"

"I stunned 'em both real good. Shoulda got a reward too, but Jessie tried to cheat me. Then that idiot Jenaid mixed in. He thinks he can be one a ya."

"Wait, wait, wait," Myriam needed to catch up. "These two Jedi, they were male?"

"Yeah."

"Human?" Numa added.

"Yep."

"One is dark complected, like me. The other is fair-skinned, blonde haired?" Myriam almost smiled.

"That's them."

Numa grinned, "You caught those two and took them to Jessie?"

"Yeah, but he didn't want to give me a reward," anger grew in Ronisha's voice. "He even let 'em go. They took Jenaid with 'em."

"Well," Myriam threw her hands up, "guess Jessie's not completely stupid after all." She refocused on Ronisha, "Tell us the whole story, kid, and you can keep the blaster."

Ronisha paused her chewing again. "There a reward?"

"If you can tell us where you got it, sure."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Numa and Myriam followed Ronisha through the crowded street. "I disagree with letting her keep the blaster," Numa whispered.

Myriam actually grinned. "She keeps it on stun. She doesn't mean anyone any real harm. Besides….. the story alone was worth it and she's helping us."

"I get that," Numa conceded, "but I also sense a strange affection you have for her. You like this child. I do not want your feelings to cloud your judgement."

Myriam huffed at the idea of something as trivial as emotions clouding her judgement. And yet, she sensed it within herself as well. "I knew plenty of kids like Ronisha when I was growing up."

"In the Jedi temple?" Numa clarified.

"No," Myriam hesitated. "I was older when I came into the Order."

"Hmmmm…." Numa pondered. "You may be the first Jedi I have known that did not begin training as an infant."

"We are a rare breed it seems," Myriam agreed.

After a long pause, Numa pushed for more information. "So you were a street child like this one?"

Myriam hesitated. Very few Jedi knew the details of her past and they only know because it was required, or in Master Yoda's case sensed it. She was not sure if she was ready to willingly divulge the details. The memories were now distant, but still painful. "Not exactly. I did spend a little time on the streets, but….mostly not. I just crossed paths with many like her." Unconsciously, she reached down to stroke the medallion on the chain which hung from her neck.

The chain was one of the first things that Numa had noticed about Myriam. It was rare, but not unheard of for a Jedi to wear such a thing. Myriam did not strike Numa (or anyone else) as the sentimental type so the older Jedi had assumed it was symbolic of Myriam's people. "That medallion you wear, what does it mean?"

Myriam rubbed the trinket one last time between her thumb and forefinger. "Sisterhood," she accidently mumbled. Seeming to snap to her senses, Myriam let go of the chain. "It was a gift… from a long time ago."

"It sort of looks like the symbol of the Maker," Numa mused. "Half of it, anyway. Is it broken?"

A soft, "Yeah," was all that Myriam offered. They continued their walk in silence.

Ronisha slowed her pace, "This is the place."

Myriam and Numa peered from around the corner. The scene looked like a typical warehouse. Transports pulled in, were quickly unloaded and on their way. The only thing that made this one stand out was that it was undocumented.

"You're sure this is where you acquired the blaster, kid?" Myriam clarified and glanced at Numa.

"Yeah, now how about my reward?" Ronisha was ready to part company with the likes of the Jedi.

"It does not make sense," Numa pondered out loud. "We know for a fact that most illegal trade on Syllian has been shut down. We know that because the legitimate businesses have been running unhindered.

The Jedi rolled the possibilities around in their minds for a moment. Myriam's eyes fell again to the blaster in Ronisha's hands. "I think I get it. Instead of Vespucio's people running illegal activities on Syllian itself, they are just using it as a pipeline into the rest of Republic space."

"Hmmmmm…." Numa processed the idea. "That may be even worse. We will have to pay Zeakwon another visit soon."

"Oh, we will, but let's clean this up first….." Myriam rose to step into the clearing.

"My reward," Ronisha spoke up again, firmer this time.

Myriam glanced back as she pulled her lightsaber. "When we get back, kid. Wait here."

"Oh, OK," Ronisha rolled her eyes. Figuring she was getting screwed again, she plotted to escape as soon as the Jedi were distracted.

Before Numa and Myriam could approach the loading docks, there was a commotion from inside. Many of the loaders either rushed in through the doors or hopped onto their transports to make a quick exit from the scene.

Myriam and Numa rushed into the loading dock door. Their pace quickened as they heard blaster fire ahead of them, but the commotion seemed to die down before they could reach it. They entered a large warehouse to find Hector and Hannibal standing in the middle of several fallen bodies. Hector beamed with pride, "Beat ya." He then turned back to a child stepping out from behind the cover of a stack of crates. "Good tip, kid."

"This must be Jenaid," Myriam offered.

Hannibal closed his saber, "How could you possibly….." he gave a worried look to Hector. "Oh poodoo…."

Numa grinned, "We made the acquaintance of one young Ronisha. That's right, we heard the whole story."

After an extended awkward pause, Jenaid piped up, "Can I get my own laser sword now?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It always seemed to happen this way. A couple of tourists wonder off the beaten path and down some dark alley way. Tourism was just beginning to pick back up with organized crime on the decline. Still the small time criminals had to make ends-meat. This particular couple seemed so enamored by their surroundings that Ronisha had to clear her throat before they noticed her standing in front of them with the blaster. "Oh how sweet," the wife smiled and snapped a picture.

"This ain't no toy, lady," Ronisha snapped back letting go of a stun blast. Her plan was to stun the woman and have the husband hand over the valuables. However, if that did not work, she would stun them both and take what she wanted anyway. That was her plan, but as the stun pattern rippled out, a blue beam of light appeared seemingly from nowhere, deflecting the stun ray back into the girl's own body.

When light returned to Ronisha's world, she could feel the ground beneath her and see blurry rooftops above the alley. "Poodoo," she felt around frantically for her blaster.

"Looking for this?" Ronisha's eyes were finally able to focus on Myriam squatting with the blaster laying across her knees in front of her as she sat up.

The young girl rubbed her eyes. "Not enough you cheat me out of my reward, now you steal my only means of making credits too?"

Myriam stood up followed quickly by Ronisha before she tossed the blaster to the younger girl. "I said you can keep it and you can, but I'm keeping this," the Jedi bounced a smaller device in her hand.

"What's that?" Ronisha almost did not care as she inspected her precious blaster.

"The firing mechanism," a thin smile spread across Myriam's face.

"Hey!" Ronisha started to protest.

Before the would-be thief could get any farther, Myriam pointed to a sack next to where the girl had been lying. "You can keep that too."

Confused Ronisha stooped down to examine the sack. It contained several weeks' worth of food packs. She was still upset about the blaster and the reward, but again she would not turn down free food. She rose to her feet and spun back towards the Jedi, not quite sure how to express her angry gratitude. Before she could open her mouth, Myriam tossed a small pouch at Ronisha. The girl could not catch it with the blaster in her hands and it hit at her feet with a clink.

"And what's that?" Ronisha asked more than a little annoyed.

"You're reward," Myriam clarified.

Ronisha's eyes widened. She quickly reached down and counted the credits as she scooped them up. It was all there. She quickly tucked the pouch into her pocket and shouldered the blaster. "Thanks," she still tried to sound annoyed, but she felt the reward in her pocket, the blaster on her shoulder, and glanced down at the food at her feet. "Why you doin' this?"

"Because we Jedi always keep our word," before Ronisha could roll her eyes, Myriam thought carefully about her own words. "Well, most of us, but even if others don't, I'm a woman of my word. You can trust me."

Ronisha's eyes studied one of the few people in her life who had actually attempted to help her. "Everyone who has ever told me to trust them was lying."

With a thoughtful look, Myriam almost chuckled. "Same here." She turned slightly, but paused. "You are smart enough to make a living without that blaster. And probably without any help from me, but just in case, "the Jedi reached into her robes she produced a comlink. She tossed to the young girl.

Ronisha easily caught the communicator since her hands were empty this time. "What's this for?"

"It is only linked to mine. Just in case. No one else has to know," with that, Myriam departed the young girl that she hoped would consider her an ally, if not a friend.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Zeakwon was angry, but not reckless. He strode down the street rather boldly towards the Jedi's temporary headquarters, but as he got closer he knew he should exercise a little caution. He found a spot off to the side and waited, when the street was clear, his boldness returned. He approached the main door and began pounding. "Hey Jedi, open up!"

The main door slid open, there was no one to greet him, so the crime-boss made his way down the hallway to what appeared to me a main room. Hector sat at a long table with his feet propped up, cleaning his saber. Numa was at the other end of the table studying intel on various data pads. Hannibal monitored communication channels at a nearby consol. None of them seemed all that interested in their main underworld contact. Even more infuriated by their lack of acknowledgement, Zeakwon demanded, "Where's your Master? Where's Granger?"

"He ain't here," Hannibal responded nonchalantly without looking up from his consol.

None of them needed to Force to sense Zeakwon's anger, "When will he be back?"

"He's off-world," Numa finally looked in the gangster's direction, "We do not know when he will return."

The gang leader inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, "OK then. Look, you people left me alive because I'm such a valuable contact within the criminal underworld, right?"

The Jedi glanced at each other, finally Numa nodded in agreement.

"Fine, I'm not going to be a very valuable contact if there is no criminal activity on Syllian."

"True," Numa pondered, "but we did not leave you in place to run illegal weapons deeper into Republic space. That is kind of the opposite of what we want to see happening."

"Maybe," Zeakwon conceded, "then you have to give me a little breathing room to do other things. People can't make money working for me or they are arrested or killed. Some have already jumped ship to the other gangs trying to move in… the ones you have no control over..."

"Yet," Hector interjected.

Ignoring the interruption, Zeakwon continued, "The weaker we appear, the more our rivals will come. You have to let me show a little muscle to keep our competitors in check. I can keep the peace."

The Jedi let the words sink in as they looked around the room at each other. Before either could respond, a tired Finly entered the room followed by Iesha. The other Jedi rose expecting their master to be behind the newcomers. Having heard the end of the conversation, Finly directed his comments at Zeakwon. "No offense, but you have now become irrelevant." He turned his attention to his comrades. "We have someone in a higher place now."


	11. Chapter 11: The Rogue One

**The Rogue One**

"Hold it right there!" the security force officer demanded, raising his blaster towards the green beam of light. "I will open fire!"

Then something unexpected happened. The beam seemed to shift from one side to the other. It slowly grew larger as though coming towards the officer. "I said, halt!" He tried not to let his voice shake. A shadowy figure began to emerge behind the light, "Have it your way," the guard mumbled shakily. He fired three blasts that were easily deflected by the beam.

Before the officer could get off his fourth shot, the beam was practically on top of him. It sliced through his blaster. He gulped expecting the next slice to be through his body. A face emerged from the darkness clothed in the green light. "Get out of her you fool!" Granger did not need a Jedi mind trick to convince the officer. He was gone before Granger could even turn to continue his assignment.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"So tell me what you think of him," Tristan motioned towards the obviously uncomfortable Pierre. Tristan could not tell if his trusted associate was nervous about having such a discussion in as public a place as a sidewalk café, if he still was not used to being off-world from Syllian, or if he had a bad feeling about the supposed rogue Jedi.

"The Jedi?" Pierre clarified. "I mean, he's good, but….."

"You don't trust him?"

"No," Pierre answered. He did not have a good reason not to trust him, he just could not convince himself that he should.

"Why is that?" Tristan asked although he already knew the answer. Pierre was naturally suspicious. It was part of the reason that Tristan liked the kid.

"I don't really have a good reason," Pierre sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "I just….."

"Have a feeling," Tristan finished. "That's good, kid. Gotta trust your gut in this business. Stick with that, but blaster to your head, if you had to pick a reason, what would it be?

Pierre took another breath, "It's just, the Jedi have been popping up everywhere lately. It just so happens that the one I captured a few weeks ago shows up chasing some 'rogue'? A rogue Jedi? Is that even possible?"

Stay in this game a while, kid. You'll see a lot of things are possible," Tristan advised. "I mean, even I can use the Force a little…."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A few days later, Pierre was on the roof with Granger overlooking a transport being unloaded. "What do you think, boss? Hutts or Black Suns?"

Pierre eyed the Jedi carefully, but before he could answer, one of the local henchmen spoke up. "I know them, they're definitely Suns."

Pierre shifted his weight, but again before he could respond, Granger spoke up, "But that's what Jabba wants us to think, right?"

Pierre cleared his throat, but the henchman spoke again, "Makes no difference. They ain't with us and they're on our turf."

Pierre shrugged. Granger chimed in again, "You all stay here. I'll handle this." Before anyone could object, Granger was over the ledge and headed toward the loading area."

The Jedi Master hit the ground nearly silently, behind the two guards. Granger gave a slight nod to knock both men to the ground from behind. Only the "clank" of the blasters against the concrete broke the Jedi's stealth mode. The Jedi paused for a moment. With no response to the noise, he rounded the transport quietly.

Running into two other guards, Granger thrust his hands forward knocking both of them unconscious. He then yelled out to his comrades, "I think we're clear down here."

The rest of the party soon joined him. Looking around at the knocked-out guards, one of the henchmen asked, "Hey Jedi, why didn't you just slice 'em all up with your laser sword?"

"Too much noise and light. And no reason to kill unless absolutely necessary."

"You got a lot to learn," the same thug muttered pulling his blaster and pointing at one of the fallen guards.

Granger extended a hand calling the blaster to his through the Force. "I said, no." Granger restated firmly to the startled underling.

"That was a mistake, Jedi…."

"What's the problem?" Although he was curious as to how Granger would handle the situation, Pierre interrupted the potential squabble.

"How are we supposed to trust this Jedi? He ain't one of us! He won't even kill one of our rivals."

Granger responded carefully, "I have no problem taking a life when necessary, but we need information. Let's see what these know." He turned to Pierre, "I hear that is your specialty."

Pierre huffed, "He's right. Pick 'em up too. They're coming with us." Granger handed the blaster back to his new associate. Pierre eyed them both carefully as they collected the prisoners and loaded the transport. He still could not bring himself to trust the Jedi, yet he was beginning to develop a certain amount of respect for him.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Granger sat in the floor of his new quarters with his eyes shut. He breathed in and out slowly. He had been aware for some time that he was not alone, but he knew exactly who his visitor was and that he meant no harm. "You've been sitting there for a while," Granger broke the silence. "Are you just going to watch or did you want to join?"

Tristan adjusted his hat slightly. "Meditation's not really my thing. Why you still do that, anyway? If you're not a Jedi anymore, I mean."

"I still use the Force. It gives me an advantage over my adversaries. Proper meditation keeps me in touch with it."

Tristan leaned forward. "See, this is why no one trusts you yet. You have qualms about killing. You meditate. I can use the Force and I don't need no meditation."

"I'm no longer in the Jedi Order, but that doesn't mean that I don't believe in the codes and disciplines of the Jedi. You have a natural talent, it's true." Granger opened his eyes and locked them on Tristan's. "I can teach you how to grow stronger and even to strengthen them on your own."

Tristan pondered the offer. "So what…..I'd be like your padawan or something?"

Granger smiled, "You're way too old to begin any type of formal training, but even a Master continues to practice his disciplines. I can teach you some of those….. if you want." He waved at a spot on the carpet in front of him. "Your choice."

To Granger's surprise, Tristan removed his hat and moved from his place on the couch to the floor in front of the Jedi and closed his eyes. "OK so what now."

Granger was not exactly sure how to proceed. He had never attempted to train anyone who had not been assigned to him formally by the council. Would they have a problem with this? Did he have a problem with this? He was about to train someone prone to the Darkside how to be more in touch with the Force. The Jedi Master swallowed his doubt. If there was one thing that he knew for sure, it was that the ways of the Jedi were more powerful and useful in overcoming the Darkside. That is the discipline that he would pass along to Tristan. "Ok, relax your body and mind. Breathe in slowly…."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The door to Vespecio's office slid open to darkness. Ocir glanced around wondering if he had the time wrong. "I'm here," the boss's voice summoned from behind the desk. As Ocir's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the imposing silhouette that sat behind it. There was a whiskey bottle out with a glass in front of the seat that Ocir was expected to take. It smelled like the boss had started without him. "How did it go?" Vespecio poured two drinks as his underling sat.

"Perfectly. The Suns on Draxil are ready to go to war with us and we are ready to respond in kind. And if anyone does any digging, it looks like the other side started the whole thing."

"What if someone digs deeper?" Vespecio downed his new shot.

"Then it points to Jabba, but the Hutts are clueless. Your tracks are covered." Ocir reassured his boss as he took his own shot.

"I knew I could count on you for this. When it finishes playing out, there will be a much higher position open just for you."

"That's why you took Syllian from me?" Ocir was mindful of his tone, but did not mind showing a little of 'his anger.

"Tristan is better equipped to handle Jedi, wouldn't you say?" Vespecio raised an eyebrow.

Ocir sincerely agreed. "Sure, but I hear there is one here now."

"A rogue or so he claims. Appears to be on our side for the moment," the boss confirmed.

Ocir proceeded cautiously, "So this thing is already in motion. It will take time to play out, but considering this new development, are you sure we shouldn't try to stop or slow it down?"

"You may show yourself out," Vespecio responded. He continued to swirl his drink in his glass as his subordinate left the room.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Pierre crouched in the darkness. As jobs went, this was a big one, bigger than anything he had been entrusted with on Syllian. Trust. There was that word again. Not only was he not sure about the Jedi, but he was unsure about all of the clowns that had been placed under him for this task. And they were unsure about him. He was a kid in their eyes and an offworlder. Why had they been passed over? Why was he suddenly the golden child? Even the Jedi would have been a better pick to lead in their eyes. He reeked of experience, the wrong kind of experience as far as most of them were concerned, but they could trust his instincts if things got bad. And there it was again, trust. None of them trusted the Jedi because of his background, but they knew he could get the job done. None of the men trusted Pierre although they knew his background, but they did not know he could get the job done. Honestly, he was not even sure how much he trusted himself, but Tristan had seen something in him. And everyone trusted Tristan. "What's our status?" Pierre whispered into his comlink. "Team one. Green." "Team two. Green. "Team three. Green." Pierre waited for the final check. There was nothing. "Team four…. You there?... Team four… Jedi….where are you?" He knew putting the Jedi alone was a mistake. Now they would both…..

"Team four here. Sorry. There are a couple of battle-droids guarding what seems to be a weapons cache." Granger's voice broke the silence. "Should I take it out as planned or do we want to get a look inside?"

Pierre grinned. Taking out this hideout would not only put the Black Suns out of business in this system, but capturing their main weapons cache would make them think twice about coming back here. "Can you capture it or should each team send help?"

"I got it," the Jedi assured his boss. "No problem."

"Very well," Pierre concluded. "Each team move in. Rendezvous at Team four's position after."

The surprise attack went nearly perfectly. When Pierre arrived at the cache, Granger and the others were already taking stock. "Helluva catch, Jedi." Pierre grumbled.

"You are the team leader, the credit goes to you. Helluva catch," Granger walked away to continue loading the captured weapons. Pierre could not help but watch him work and smile at the job they had done.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The kid regained enough consciousness to see his blood stained shirt. He was still standing and the thugs who jumped him held him up by the arms. His eyes slowly refocused on the alleyway around him. His eyes zoned in on the one face everyone on Markuria feared. "Glad you are still with us," Tristan pushed up the brim of his hat to look his prey in the eyes. "Now, we know about the shipping yard. Where else do the Suns hide out in these parts?" Tristan pulled his blaster and placed the end of the barrel against his captive's forehead. "And don't even think of lying to me."

"I swear I don't know. Rizzo only pays me when he needs a job done. I didn't even know he was with the Suns."

Tristan holstered his blaster, but raised his empty hand this time. The boy felt his throat tighten. Horror filled his face as Tristan spoke again. "But you knew he wasn't with us."

The boy would have been too afraid to speak even if he was able. He felt the seat of his pants getting wet. The smell of urine soon filled the nostrils of everyone in the alley. The two henchmen holding the boy began to laugh. Tristan lowered his hand. "You really are just a part-timer, huh." The boy nodded as he gulped in fresh air. "Let him go." The thugs complied and their captive dropped to his knees. "Get out of here, kid." The boy quickly complied. As he ran, he heard Tristan shout, "And next time you need a job, come see us instead."

"You've been hanging around that Jedi too long, boss."

"You think I'm getting soft?" Tristan shot back.

Both men grinned, "Nah boss, we know better."

Tristan looked back in the kid's direction. "No reason to kill unnecessarily. Besides his fear will work more for us than his death."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Tristan briefed Pierre as they walked to the ship. "So Zeakwon's still the boss of Syllian, but you are my eyes and ears there and what's more, he knows it. He'll have a healthy amount of fear of you, but he also…."

"Won't trust me," Pierre finished.

Tristan grinned, "You OK with that?"

"It'll work out," Pierre pondered. "We'll need each other. He'll trust that, at least."

"Smart kid…. And speaking of trust, can you hack Republic databases?" Tristan changed the subject.

"Done it before. If I'm in and out quick, it should be easy and untraceable."

"How about the Jedi records?"

Pierre gave a look of understanding, "You want me to find out about our new friend."

Tristan responded "You seem unsure. You trust him now that he threw you that weapons cache?"

Pierre gulped not really sure how to respond. Tristan laughed and swatted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry kid. One of the privileges of rank is taking credit for the work of your underlings."

Pierre felt relieved, "And I'm sure he did it to ingratiate himself to me. I still don't trust him, but I…"

"Kind of like him," Tristan finished the thought. "Yeah, there is something about him. And that is what worries me. Find out what you can."


	12. Chapter 12: The Best Around

**The Best Around**

Hannibal brought the shuttle out of hyperspace as it neared Corusant. "Haven't been home in a while," he grinned and turned to his preoccupied copilot. "Will you relax? This is what you live for. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that you are right," Hector answered. "This is what I live for…. Or at least it used to be. I thought I had moved passed it now. I don't even know if I want it anymore."

Hannibal rolled his eyes. "Because of Myriam? You have got to stop comparing yourself to her. I thought you had moved passed that too?"

Hector checked the scanners as he programmed their approach to the planet. "It's not about comparing myself to Myriam anymore, but she had a point. Why does the Council even sponsor this thing? The Lightsaber Tournament does nothing but encourage unhealthy competition amongst fellow Jedi."

"I think you're really just afraid of being beaten," Hector goaded. He smiled reassuringly when Hector shot the expected dirty look. "The Council obviously have their reasons for hosting it. And it's not really unhealthy competition if all the participants enjoy it and it encourages Jedi to hone their lightsaber skills. I mean, everybody who enters does so voluntarily….." Hannibal stopped himself mid- sentence. "Well….. almost everybody."

Hector sat back in his seat. Normally Hannibal would have been absolutely correct. The Lightsaber Tournament was entirely voluntary although masters sometimes encouraged their padawans to participate. Hector entered every year since he was eligible. Since his final years as a padawan, he finished at least in the top ten, making it to the final round in the last five years, winning for the last two. It was fun and he always enjoyed it, but this year he had decided not to enter. He felt that part of his life was over and that he needed to devote himself to his assignment. In many ways, he had become the face of the tournament. He had a following in certain circles of aspiring lightsaber duelists. There was probably wide-spread disappointment when he announced that he would not participate. And maybe it was that disappointment that caused the Jedi Council to order his participation just two days ago. "I haven't really had time to prepare like other years." Hector lamented.

"You'll be fine," Hannibal reassured as their shuttle approached the landing bay outside the temple. "Look," he pointed, "we're home."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

As he had come to expect, Hector barreled his way through the early rounds of the tournament. Despite his lack of preparation, he found it surprisingly easy. He had been using his saber quite a bit against live opponents lately. Although those opponents were all using blasters, the repetition must have been good for his reflexes. He had also spent more time meditating and practicing other Force techniques. Nonsaber Force moves were not allowed in the tournament (it was strictly based on saber dueling skills), but being more in touch with the Force also had to assist in that regard.

Hector found a slight challenge in the fifth round. His opponent was experienced enough not to broadcast his every move before he made it. The rare purple-saber wheilding dueler actually managed to score a point when Hector fell for a fake move. The crowd applauded the upstart as he managed the rare trick on the returning champion. As Hector parried the purple beam in another defensive maneuver, he could not help, but wonder what color his opponent's actual saber was. Participants checked their actual lightsabers at the Jedi Temple and used special practice sabers during the tournament. On-lookers were also not allowed to bring their actual weapons to the arena. The only live blades in the entire section were in the procession of the temple guards and they were here mostly to guard the Chancellor of the Republic who would attend just long enough to view the final round.

Hector parried and counter moved against the purple blade yet again this time quickly scoring his third point and ending his longest match so far. "Hannibal brought his friend a bottle of water as he approached the bench to rest. "Had me worried there for a minute," Hannibal jabbed as Hector sat.

The barely winded participant replied, "You could be useful and go scope out the real competition."

"Oh, I have," he grinned back. "I hear there is someone tearing up the other bracket, but I haven't made it over there yet. You won't be seeing him until the final round anyway. As long as you keep this pace up, you should breeze through everyone else."

Hannibal was right. None of his other opponents even touched the returning champion. Before Hector even had a chance to enjoy the day, he found himself standing next to the judges' panel with Hannibal waiting for the announcer to introduce his opponent to the crowd for the final round. "Any idea who it is?" he leaned towards Hannibal.

"Not a clue. You'll be fine though," his friend reassured.

Hector's long awaited rush of adrenaline returned as the announcer's voice boomed through the arena, "Ladies and Gentlemen. Children of all ages. Fellow Jedi and friends from across the galaxy. Thank you for attending our annual Lightsaber Tournament. And now the moment you have all been waiting for our championship round!"

The cheers and applause boomed throughout the arena. Hector bounced just slightly as the announcer greeted the sponsors and honored guests. "Now let's meet this year's contestants. First, our two time returning champion. You know him and love him. The man you all came to see, esteemed Jedi Knight, Hector Andrilious!" The arena exploded with applause even louder than before. "And our surprising challenger. Despite this being her first entry into our competition, her reputation requires no prolonged introduction. You know her, you love her, her enemies fear her, the marvelous Jedi Knight Myriam!"

Hector and Hannibal's jaws dropped as their seemingly emotionless teammate stepped from behind the gathered spectators and into the ring. In Hector's ears the applause seemed even louder than his. "The announcer resumed. "We will give our participants an hour to refresh themselves and return to what is sure to be a captivating match!"

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Hannibal caught himself trying to control his anger as he stormed towards the opposing locker room. The door slid open for him to find a calm Myriam examining her assigned practice saber as she sat on the bench in the dim room. "You really are a sneaky one aren't you?" he bit back his anger at the sight of her.

"Excuse me?" to his surprise she raised her gaze to address her intruder.

"You know this is Hector's thing. All that talk about his competitive nature and here you are. What was that? Just to psyche him out or something? You have some nerve….."

The seated Jedi let out a slight sigh, "I guess curiosity just got the best of me. I thought he had decided not to enter this time?"

"He did," Hannibal weighed her response. "The Council ordered him to participate. I guess they figured he would be your only real competition here…"

"Rest assured, Jedi Hannibal, Jedi Myriam was also ordered here by the Council," a voice from the corner of the room broke into the confrontation.

Hannibal's noticed the stoic figure for the first time since entering his tirade. "Master Voudon," he glanced confusingly around the room. "My apologies, was I interrupting something important?" Hannibal was not even sure himself if he intended any innuendo, but it was ignored by both parties.

"Just a friendly chat," the reputable Master smiled. "Would you mind giving us another moment?"

"Of course, Master," the still confused knight glanced around the otherwise empty room before returning his gaze to Myriam. "Any chance Yoda is hiding in here too?"

Myriam actually seemed to scoff in the presence of her senior, "Master Yoda wouldn't touch something this trite with a ten meter walking stick."

"A moment please, Master Jedi," Voudon's tone remained friendly, but firm. "And I would appreciate no mention of my presence here."

"Of course, Master," Hannibal bowed slightly, eyed Myriam one last time and exited.

"So the 'Council' ordered Hector here as well?" Myriam did not hide her dissatisfaction from her superior. "Our team is planning a major mission, yet here we are. It reeks of your doing."

"I am the Jedi Council," Voudon smiled. "We have need of our most skilled Jedi here today."

"I can think of at least eleven other members of the council who would disagree with you sentiment," Myriam continued to be reserved, but defiant. "They are the ones who assembled our team and ordered our overall mission in the first place. Why would they go along with pulling their two 'most skilled' away from that."

"Nothing is more important than preserving the peace and prosperity of the Republic. The Chancellor is in attendance today. We have reason to believe his safety will be threatened."

"That's what temple guards are for. Not to mention there are hundreds of Jedi out there. Even unarmed, who would be stupid enough to move on the Chancellor here?" Myriam shot back.

"People who want to make a statement," Voudon reassured. "I'm not accustomed to explaining my orders….."

"And I'm not used to receiving questionable orders in the name of the Council," Myriam's voice did not waver.

"Your newly formed team has experience with organized criminals. We believe the Black Sun to be behind this plot. Yours and Hector's experience may prove useful. Just preparing for every eventuality."

Myriam tried to exhale her continued dissatisfaction. "Fair enough. So why isn't Hector receiving this same briefing?"

Voudon's smile did not fade. "To maintain the appearance of normality."

"I'm not used to operating under these conditions," Myriam rose and attached her temporary saber to her belt. "Especially with a fake lightsaber."

"You will be fine. If you had come to work for me like you were supposed to, you would be perfectly comfortable," Voudon's smile intensified.

"I'm comfortable in the Force. What about you?" Myriam turned away to enter the arena.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hector and Myriam faced each other as the announcer completed their introductions. "And now with no further ado, we begin our championship round. Jedi, ignite and touch sabers." Two blue beams of light extended and slightly touched. "Begin."

Neither beam moved for some time. The competitors faced each other in stern concentration. "Make your move," Myriam mumbled across the blades to Hector.

"Ladies first," Hector grinned back. He had longed for this moment for several months. Just never thought it would be happening in the arena.

Myriam sighed, "A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack."

"Don't go all Yoda on me. Or do you forget I've seen you in action?" Hector grinned back. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Same as you, you fool. I was ordered here by Voudon."

"So Master Voudon wanted to see us go at it?" Hector clarified.

"No dummy, the Black Sun is going to attempt to assassinate the Chancellor. We are here to protect him."

"Hector kept his focus on Myriam, but his confusion was obvious. "There are nearly a thousand Jedi here. How would an assassin even have a chance at getting to the Chancellor?"

"Because everyone is focused on us." The words were barely out of Myriam's mouth when they both sensed the danger. Maybe the others felt it as well, but had no idea of the impending attack. Or maybe the two competitors felt it a few seconds before everyone else. Hector and Myriam turned to the Chancellor's box, dropped their practice sabers and flipped to the Chancellor's seat just as the sniper's blaster bolt left a perch from the upper deck. In mid-air, both Jedi extended their hands robbing two of the temple guards of their double-hilted saber's. Hector's other hand extended towards the bolt slowing it just long enough for Myriam to land, ignite the double yellow blade and deflect the bolt harmlessly into the floor. Hector landed with his borrowed blades ignited as the other guard's also extended their blades. "Someone's been practicing," Myriam nodded at her teammate.

"He's up there," Hector yelled and pointed to the shadow that was now fleeing across an upper catwalk.

"Myriam pointed to the two now unarmed guards, "Stay with the Chancellor. The rest of you follow us."

The would-be assassin neared the end of the catwalk as Hector and a team of guards landed in front of him. "Halt!" Hector yelled.

The assassin turned to see Myriam and another team of guards blocking his escape. "You are cut off. Surrender."

The assassin grinned from beneath his cloak. He pointed his sniper rifle at Hector's team, pulled a pistol from beneath his cloak and began firing wildly at both sides as he jumped over the rail, flipping to a lower catwalk. He darted into a corridor as all of the armed Jedi landed behind him. The assassin blasted the door controls as he entered the corridor, lowering and sealing the door behind him. He ran a few feet before he was face to face with Master Voudon. The assassin came to a dead stop and knelt before the Jedi Master. "Well done." Voudon grinned as he approached the assassin.

The assassin pulled back his cloak. "Thank you, Master."

"I have observed what I needed to observe," the Master reassured his subordinate as he rose to his feet. "Have no fear, I will clear everything with the Council, but for now you must escape." The subordinate turned to continue his flight, when Voudon stopped him again. "I almost forgot. Your lightsaber." Voudon pulled the saber from his robe to offer it to the assassin.

"Thank you, Mast….."the subordinate's gratitude was cut off in mid-sentence as Voudon extended the yellow blade through the sentinal's chest. A look of horror flashed through his eyes as the life rushed out of them.

"I'm sorry," Voudon whispered. "You have served the Council well."

It was only a matter of minutes before the guards led by Myriam and Hector reached Voudon. "He used to be one of mine." Voudon sounded disappointed as he stared at his now lifeless subordinate. "He went rogue some time back." The Jedi Master offered the saber to one of the temple guards. "This was his."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Back in the arena, the crowd had finally settled when the announcer and Hector approached the center of the arena. "In an unusual turn of events, our challenger, Jedi Myriam has conceded the match." He turned to Hector, grabbed his hand and raised it high in the air. "Presenting our Lightsaber Tournament Champion for the third year in a row, Jedi Knight Hector Andrillious!"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Unfortunately, this agent went rogue some time ago, as I previously reported. I did not know that he had become involved with the Black Sun, but when I received reports of their plans, I felt it best to redeploy two of our best knights to the scene," Voudon concluded his report to the Jedi Council.

"You reassigned Knights already assigned to a very important task. Surely there were others just as qualified…" Tarayzin attempted to argue.

"I needed Knights who would not be out of place at the tournament," Voudon defended his decision.

"This type of mission is Master Voudon's specialty," Master Oldofo interjected. "We will trust his judgement on this matter."

"What worries me," Master Yoda spoke up, "the second recent report of a rogue this is."

"Exactly," Master Oo'looku agreed. "This is a disturbing trend."

"The other supposed rogue is in your camp Oo'looku," Voudon continued to defend. "You should be allowed to handle him as I was."

"Very well," Oldofo reiterated. "Master Oo'looku, your team is nearly up for a performance evaluation. Do as you see fit."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hector and Myriam once again stared across from each other with practice sabers in hand. "You sure you want to do this?" Myriam asked. "We really should join the others in planning our trip to Markuria. Besides you have retained your title that is what you wanted right?"

Hector grinned, "I may have the title, but I won't feel like I earned it until this is over."

"Well, no one is watching. We are the only ones who will ever know the truth. Make your move." Myriam goaded.

"Ladies first," Hector replied.


	13. Chapter 13: Job Performance

**Job Performance**

Tristan stared somberly down the alley as he stood next to Granger. "You deal with the three on the left, I'll take the one on the right."

Granger glanced at his partner. "Those probably seem like good odds to you, but you sure about that?"

"Oh yeah," he grinned as he stared back at Myriam. "We've tangled before, I like her."

"You're the boss," Granger conceded igniting his lightsaber. "Don't say I didn't warn you… if you live."

"Let's dance," Tristan pulled both blasters, firing in Myriam's direction. Granger rushed Numa, Hector, and Iesha as they each ignited their sabers. After a few half-hearted blows, Granger maneuvered his party around the corner and out of Tristan's sight.

When they were a safe distance, Granger asked, "Why are you back so soon?"

Hector smiled in relief as much as in reply, "You had me worried for a second, Master."

Numa answered the question, "An evaluation team from the Council is coming to Syllian. They demand your presence."

Granger rolled his eyes and patted Iesha on the back. She looked up with relief and rekindled fondness. "Leave it to the Jedi Council to risk blowing a good cover to have a meeting. Very well, let's make this look good."

Myriam fairly easily deflected Tristan's shots. She wasn't quite sure that he was even trying to hit her. "Are you toying with me?"

"Well," Tristan grinned beneath the brim of his hat. "You haven't deflected any shots back in my direction. Who's toying with who?"

"You're not my priority at the moment," the normally even-keeled Jedi smiled back, "but since you want to get serious….." Myriam's blue blade moved almost faster than Tristan could track as he resumed firing, this time with more careful aim. Only one deflected shot even came close to touching him, although that was mostly due to his natural deflective Force reflexes and not any mercy from Myriam.

The gangster holstered one blaster and pointed at a nearby dumpster. Swinging his arm, the massive receptical flew through the air at Myriam. She also raised her free hand, stopping the massive object in mid-air and hurled it back at Tristan. He stepped just out of the way of the crashing dumpster. "Impressive," both combatants mumbled.

"Something's different about you," Myriam tried to get a sense of her opponent. "Your skills are growing. You're more focused this time."

"Guess your rogue friend is a bad influence," Tristan shot back with words and his blaster as Myriam easily deflected each shot.

"Come with us," there was almost a pleading sound in Myriam's voice that tugged at Tristan's gut as though he knew she was going to say it.

"Awwww, you really do care," he tried to hide the sincerity in his voice.

"You've obviously learned from Granger, imagine what you could learn if properly taught," Myriam tried to sound reasonable."

"I'm sure I'm too old to start training….." Tristan shot back sarcastically.

"Technically, I was too," Myriam deflected the words as easily as the shots.

"Who would train me? You? Or maybe you had something else in mind….." Tristan paused his fire and grinned.

"Attachment is forbidden to Jedi," Myriam dropped her playfulness as she glared at him from above the blue blade of her saber.

Tristan chuckled, "I'm too attached to this life."

"I can fix that for you too," Myriam prepared her stance for another assault.

Before either of them resumed the fight, the alley was rocked by a massive explosion from around the corner where the rest of the Jedi had moved. "Guess that's my cue to leave," Myriam blew her attacker a kiss that turned into a Force push and disappeared down the alley.

Tristan rounded the corner to find nothing but rubble. He wondered who he would task to sort through it and find whatever may be left of Granger. "Stupid Jedi and their disappearing tricks."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

"Relax Jedi Finly, Master Tarayzin reassured the young knight. "This is merely an evaluation, not a hearing."

""Which you have experience with," Oo'looku had already established himself as the most aggressive of the Masters on the review committee. "Just before you were transferred to this team, you were nearly suspended, if not removed, from the Order for," the antagonistic inquisitor paused to quote from his datapad, "'wrecklessness, if not gross incompetence.' Do you really think you deserve to be here?"

Finly stammered. He would begin a sentence then pause. He started to admit that the committee was right and the he had no good reason to be on this team or maybe even a Jedi. Then he thought of what Iesha told him on Markuria. He thought about the way Master Granger seemed to appreciate and even seek his input on missions. He realized that for the first time since youngling training, he actually felt valued and that he had a significant role to play. He felt his chest puff, just slightly. "As a matter of fact, I do. I feel that since I have been here, I have made valuable contributions to several missions."

"What makes you say that?" Oo'looku continued to press.

Finly paused in thought for a moment. "Master Granger does. I can't really explain it. He just has a way about him."

Tarayzin knew that any praise for Granger would get under Oo'looku's skin, but he did not mind that his fellow Master, who was often holding the opposite viewpoint especially when it came to Sylllian operations, was flustered. He covered his mouth to hide his grin. "That will be all, Jedi," Oo'looku quickly dismissed Finly. "Send in Jedi Hannibal."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Hannibal and Finly sat around the meeting table in the main room of what had become the Jedi's Syllian headquarters when the others returned. Granger had since discarded his Markurian clothes for his Jedi robes and felt much more at ease and freer to move. "Master," Hannibal joked as the group entered. "I thought we would get to see you in your new get-up, but I see you've switched back."

"Too confining," there was still relief in Granger's voice. "What is the word around here."

"Organized crime, particularly that of the Vespucio Family, is steadily drying up on the planet of Syllian," Finly rose to greet his master with the good news. "But….. an evaluation team from the Jedi Council is here and…"

"I heard," Granger smirked. "They don't share your enthusiasm regarding our success, I take it?"

"Which makes no sense to me," Hannibal answered. "They see what we've done here and yet they are almost seem eager to point out our missteps."

"That's what an evaluation is," Granger reassured, "to make sure you are doing the great job that you think you are doing."

"Maybe," Hannibal answered, "but they've already questioned Finly and me. They seem overly aggressive, especially Oo'looku."

"Yes Master," Finly cut in. "Oo'looku is not your friend."

"Ah," Granger mused. "We have crossed paths before. Where are they? I suppose I should get in there….."

"Actually," Finly hesitated. "They want to see Numa next. They have listed an order that they want to see us all in. They saved you for last."

"Interesting," Granger looked around the room at his assembled team. Iesha noticed that there did not seem to be the least bit of worry in his eye. Even when faced with as formidable an opponent as the Jedi Council, Granger's confidence did not waver. "Well, I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me. May the Force be with you all…..especially with you, Numa." Both of the senior Jedi exited the meeting room together.

As they left, Hector leaned towards Myriam, "I have a bad feeling about this."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"That will be all padawan," Iesha was a little taken aback by her abrupt dismissal. The questions had been fairly tame, but the committee was a little too probing for her comfort regarding the exact nature of her feelings towards Granger. She barely admitted to herself that they were complicated, but she felt that she dealt with them appropriately. Or had she? Maybe she was only hiding them. Or maybe she was not hiding them as well as she thought. The idea left her a little rattled, but the questions felt more like formalities than actual probes.

Myriam stood in the door, ready to enter as Iesha exited. She seemed completely unshaken as usual. "May the Force be with you," Iesha mumbled as they passed.

"It always is," Myriam whispered matter-of-factly as the door slid shut behind her. "Masters," Myriam nodded in greeting.

"Jedi Myriam," one of the quieter members of the committee was the first to speak. "Your reputation precedes you. You have a nearly impeccable record. This proceeding should not take long."

Myriam eyed Voudon who was uncharacteristically silent. Oo'looku spoke next. "_Nearly _impeccable," the head of the committee emphasized. "You tend to have a higher body count than most of your peers…."

"'A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense'," Myriam knew she could never go wrong with a quote from her former master. "However, the best defense is often a good offense….."

"Jedi Myriam's personal record is not in question here, Master Oo'looku," Tarayzin interrupted.

"Very well," Oo'looku conceded. "What is your opinion of Jedi Master Granger?"

"He is an outstanding leader. Very efficient at accomplishing his mission. And one of the best teachers I have ever encountered. Possibly second only to Master Yoda himself."

Tarayzin and the two less vocal members of the committee nodded slightly in agreement. Oo'looku was clearly offended. Voudon continued to sit unmoved. "So you agree that murdering a public official is in accordance with the Jedi way?" Oo'looku countered.

"Ah, the Magistrate," Myriam shrugged. "It was hardly murder. He ran the Vespuccio Family here on Syllian and was the source of most political corruption. Like I said, Master Granger is very efficient."

"We have already cleared Master Granger of those charges," Tarayzin seemed annoyed at Oo'looku's backtracking.

"Very well," Oo'looku changed tactics. "What of Granger's relationship with Zaekwon, the new boss for the Vespucio Family on this planet?"

"Zaekwon works for us. And through him we keep organized crime in check. It is nearly non-existent at the moment."

"Is that why Master Granger went undercover as a….. rogue….. and is now budding up to Vespuccio's second in command….. this….. Tristan?" Oo'looku pressed. At these comments, Voudon leaned forward in his seat.

"What are you getting at?" Myriam was tiring of the questions.

Oo'looku cleared his throat. "One could argue that when Master Granger….. removed…. the Magistrate, that he was simply taking out a rival. He has since put a puppet boss in place and is working his way up the line in the Vespuccio Family."

"That is ridiculous." Myriam snapped. "Syllian is a better place. What profit could he be reaping? You are right, he is working his way up the line and if he is allowed to do his job, then he will likely eliminate the entire Vespuccio Family soon enough. The rest of us should be moving deeper into the Outer Rim to ensure that crime does not return here. You are wasting our valuable time. I'm done with this." Myriam turned towards the door.

"You have not been dismissed, Jedi," it was Tarayzin who spoke up to stop her.

Myriam reluctantly turned back to the committee. "Indeed," Oo'looku nodded at Tarayzin and continued. "Tell me Jedi, have you encountered the Dark Side since your arrival here?"

Myriam thought of Hannibal and took a deep breath. "Of course."

The entire committee except Voudon seemed caught off guard by the answer. "Could you please clarify?"

"The Dark Side seeks all of us. Any Jedi who claims not to struggle with it is either blind or a fool….. or a liar." Myriam stood tall at her response and noticed a slight grin from Voudon.

The committee seemed satisfied with the answer and ready to dismiss her, when Voudon finally spoke up. "One more question Myriam. Would you describe the exact nature of your relationship with Jedi Hannibal?"

"The exact nature of my what with who?" Myriam nearly stumbled backwards.

"Jedi Hannibal," Voudon repeated and glanced at a data pad. "He mentioned what he called 'extremely volatile sexual tension' between the two of you."

"I'm going to kill him," Myriam gritted her teeth. The comment caused a stir amongst the collection of masters. "The only tension between us will be when I remove his flesh saber." The committee was clearly at a loss for words as Myriam glanced around the room at each of them. Her eyes came to rest on the only female member of the committee. "I can't help but ask if the male members of the team received this same line of questioning."

"We resent the implication, Jedi," Tarayzin interrupted, "but since it does not speak to the nature of our business here, we will overlook it. And I believe that is enough for today. You are dismissed."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Zeakwon listened carefully to the usual reports and complaints from his underlings. "We have to make some moves quick boss," the last one concluded. "People are getting restless. Money will soothe a lot of hurts."

"Money's getting harder and harder to come by," Jessie, standing just off to the right of the seated Zeakwon's shoulder spoke up this time. He only became slightly nervous when he glanced at Pierre, who was seated off to the side. "As long as the Jedi are here in force….."

Zeakwon cleared his throat, "The Jedi have a particular interest in our activities on Syllian at the moment. Any move against them would only bring more. They will leave when they are convinced they have been successful. We lay low until then."

"Boss, if we lay low too much longer, our rivals will take us for weak and our own people will continue to jump ship…" an underling attempted another protest.

"Any of our own who do not follow orders will be dealt with as usual. And our rivals will find the Jedi waiting for them just as we have. And the ones that don't…..we will deal with accordingly," Zeakwon grinned at the thought of some excitement.

"Then we will need to keep our people loyal. And they ain't gonna stay if they ain't getting paid….." another underling's concern was interrupted by a commotion outside followed quickly by the opening door. Numa, Myriam, Hector, and Finly stepped through the open door accompanied by Masters Tarayzin and Voudon.

"Get out," Numa seemed to hiss at the underlings. The group hurriedly made their way out the door.

Myriam gave Jessie a slight Force Push back towards Zeakwon. "Not you."

Pierre eyed Finly nervously as he filed out with the others. He tried to catch what he could of the conversation as he wondered why he was allowed to leave. The door promptly slid shut behind him.

"Zeakwon," Numa spoke with even more authority than usual. "In the name of the Jedi Council of the Republic, you are under arrest."

"What kinda bantha poodoo is this?" Zeakwon calmed his tone when all but Master Voudon's lightsabers ignited as he shot from his seat.

"I'm afraid your reign of terror on Syllian is over," Master Tarayzin stated rather proudly. "I would suggest you come quietly.

The door slid open to a startled Pierre as Zeakwon exited the room followed by six Jedi and five lightsabers.

"Catch ya later," Hector glanced back at Jessie as they escorted Syllian's crime boss out of the room.

Jessie almost looked like he wished he had also been arrested as the underlings filed back into the office. "What happened?" one of the underlings demanded.

Pierre pointed with his head at Zeakwon's empty chair as Jessie stammered for words. Reluctantly, Jessie accepted the promotion and sat in the empty chair behind the desk. "It appears gentlemen that our struggles here are not yet over."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Hannibal and Iesha were waiting outside the committee's room when the others arrived. "You," Myriam gave Hannibal a cold stare and fought the urge to ignite her lightsaber and charge him when they returned with Zeakwon. Hannibal tried not to obviously hide, but kept his distance.

"We'll need everyone in the inquiry chamber," Master Tarayzin instructed as he proudly escorted the now restrained Zeakwon. The team filed back into the committee meeting room.

Oo'looku seemed almost ecstatic. "Bring in Granger." Everyone noticed his lack of the _Master_ in front of their leader's name. Another committee member entered through a side door with Granger in tow. He was not in restraints, but his Jedi robe and lightsaber were noticeably absent. "Mister Zeakwon, your illegal deal with the Jedi is now void. You will be escorted back to Coruscant to stand trial for your crimes. Get him out of here." It was Voudon who escorted the prisoner out of the room. "And now, the man of the hour." Iesha thought that Oo'looku licked his lips as his attention turned to her master. "Master Granger, this review committee finds that you have violated the Jedi Code by murdering a public official, your arrangement with the head of the criminal underworld, and frankly your disregard for the proper ways of a Jedi. We have recommended to the Council and it has been approved that you are to be banished from the Jedi Order."

"No," Iesha voiced the opinion of her teammates. Numa took her arm to calm her protests.

Oo'looku continued. "You are to leave Syllian immediately and never cross the Outer Rim again unless summoned by the Council. Is this clear?"

Granger seemed to already be aware of his sentence. "Yes," he answered calmly.

"You are dismissed," Oo'looku could not help but grin.

Granger slowly turned. He nodded at each member of his team as he passed. He paused to pat a teary eyed Iesha on the shoulder. "The Force will be with you."

"That will be all Granger," Oo'looku called behind the former Jedi as to shoo him out of the room. He continued to speak when Granger was gone and the door was closed. "Jedi Numa, you are now the acting team leader. Each of you will be assigned to a post in the Outer Rim. You have done an admirable job in ridding Syllian of its criminal element. The time has come for us to push it farther away from Republic space. Padawan Iesha, you will remain on Syllian to coordinate their efforts and communicate with Coruscant. Jedi Numa will act as the supervisor for your training, but we are confident that you can function on your own and will be a Jedi soon enough," Oo'looku paused and glanced at the shocked team. "You are all dismissed."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

As he sat alone nursing his drink, Tristan had an unobstructed view of the entire cantina from his corner table. Even his entourage of guards and henchmen dispersed themselves around the bar. They kept an eye out for their boss, but no one worried. He could handle himself and lately he felt like being alone or at least as alone as the underboss of the Vespuccio Family could make himself. Only a couple of days had passed since Pierre had sent his update on Syllian affairs.

_Tristan watched the holo-footage from a nearby shop of the fight. He engaged Myriam as the Jedi took on the others. Once they were around the corner, there was nothing more of him. Neither Tristan's people nor local security forces had been able to recover anything from the blast area. What had happened? Tristan paused the holo on a clear shot of Myriam. Something did not feel right. He had learned long ago to trust his gut. The Jedi had taught him that this instinct of his was actually the Force and that he was right to trust it. Tristan had also learned from the Jedi that he should meditate to clear his mind and open himself to the Force's guidance. He had to admit that he missed the Jedi. Sure he had been a powerful asset, but Tristan also felt something deeper, almost as though he had lost a friend._

_Just as he was about to move from his couch to the floor, a beep from a communication channel interrupted his would-be meditation. Tristan glanced at Myriam's image one last time, turned off the footage, then opened the channel. Pierre's image replaced the more attractive of the Jedi. "Boss, I got some news."_

"_Yeah?" Tristan tried to be interested. _

"_The Jedi have arrested Zeakwon."_

"_OK," Tristan did not seemed shocked. "They get anybody else?"_

"_No. Jessie has assumed control….. for now, but he doesn't carry the respect that Zeakwon did. The natives are restless….."_

"_Back him up. We need to maintain at least the appearance of control. He'll lean on you because you have our backing…..my backing. You get to be the power behind the throne. Others will go along when they realize that," Tristan paused to let his words sink in. "Congrats. You are now the 'me' of Syllian."_

"Miss me?" the words interrupted Tristan's memory.

Tristan's gaze rested on the figure in front of him who seemed to step from nowhere. His guards noticed as well. It should have been impossible for anyone to sneak up on him, but Tristan waved them off. "Master Granger is it?"

Granger grinned, "You've done your homework, I see."

"Of course," Tristan pushed back the brim of his hat. He eyed the lightsaber that hung from Granger's belt. "You know when I was a kid, I loved all those detective holo programs. Whenever someone was suspended or put off the force, they would take their badge and weapon. I'm surprised to see you still have that lasersword."

Granger unclipped the saber from his belt. He eyed it for a moment. "Nobody gets this from me unless I want them to have it." He extended his hand towards Tristan.

Tristan smirked, "Nah you keep that. I've learned a lot from you," Tristan lay his blaster on the table, "but, I prefer this." The underboss snapped at a nearby waiter and motioned for Granger to sit. "Let's drink."

_Pierre stirred nervously for a moment before he continued. "There's something else."_

"_What's that?" Tristan raised an eyebrow._

"_The Jedi….. our Jedi….. he's still alive and he's been officially banished from the order."_

"_You mean, he wasn't already?" Tristan clarified._

"_Turns out, he was the one that killed the Magistrate. He was the leader of their crew here on Syllian. Granger's his name."_

"_Granger….." Tristan repeated. "I recognize that name. You find anything on him between killing the Magistrate and when he popped up here?"_

"_Nothing official," Pierre conceded. "He's pretty well known. Had a pretty good reputation until he come to Syllian."_

_Tristan chuckled. "Our influence has a way of doing that to people. Do you trust his story?"_

_The boss's trust in Pierre's opinion made him nervous. "It makes sense….. he would have had to flee to the Outer Rim. If he got tired of scratching around for ends-meat, he would have wanted to link up with somebody."_

"_Why not us?" Tristan followed the logic. "He would have learned about our Family on Syllian."_

"_So…." Pierre tried to sound reasonable. "Even if we trust that he's not working for the Jedi, how do we know we can trust him? What if he's….. ambitious?"_

"_So you trust his story, but you don't trust him?" Tristan continued to question his protégé._

"_It makes sense, but almost too much sense," Pierre shook his head. "I don't know boss, it's an easy thing to overthink."_

"_Any word on where he is now?"_

_Pierre shook his head. "No."_

"_Keep your ears open. Stay close to Jessie. And if Granger pops up here, I'll keep him close to me."_

Granger sipped what must have been his fifth drink. He sensed Tristan's uneasiness, but if he handled himself right, the mistrust would fade with time. "So you know that I can't go back now… even if I wanted to. What do you have for me, boss?"

Tristan raised his own glass. "We'll discuss business tomorrow. For now, welcome home."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

"_Don't worry about anything, padawan," Numa reassured Iesha as they approached the ramp of the ship. "Mind your training. You'll be fine. We all trust you. I trust you."_

"_Thank you," Iesha almost felt at ease. Numa patted the padawan's shoulder. "May the Force be with you."_

"_And also with you," Iesha responded as Numa turned to enter the ship. A few minutes later, she was all alone, the only Jedi presence left on Syllian. She thought about her new responsibilities as she made her way back to headquarters. Her main job was to be the communication hub between her teammates and the Council, but she would also have to keep tabs on Jessie and be ready in case the criminal elements came flooding back to Syllian._

_She entered the main room of headquarters to find Master Voudon sitting with his feet propped on the table. "Greetings, padawan."_

"_What are you doing here?" Iesha could not help, but feel disdain for the Jedi Council and all its members._

_Voudon grinned as he put down his feet and leaned forward. "I have a surprise for you."_

_The side door slid open. Iesha rushed to give her Master an enthusiastic hug as he stepped into the room. "It's good to see you too," Granger confessed as he returned the hug._

"_I don't understand," Iesha stepped back and glanced between her Master and Voudon._

"_Officially, Master Granger is no longer a Jedi, but unofficially, he works for me now," Voudon smirked._

"_I work for the Council," Granger clarified. "Just as the rest of the team has been assigned to various parts of the Outer Rim, I have been assigned to Markuria."_

_Iesha could not help but smile, "And the Council knows this?"_

"_Yes," Granger reassured. "Although they are not all in agreement with the methods."_

_Voudon smirked again, "My assignment. My rules."_

_Granger patted Iesha's shoulder. "And I need to be getting underway. Summon me a shuttle." He waited for his padawan to leave the room before turning to Voudon._

"_I know you don't like this…. Or me, but trust me, this is the only way," Voudon sounded confident._

_Granger ignored the comment. "Why did you arrest Zeakwon?"_

_Voudon cleared his throat. "I had to give Oo'looku something to get him off your back. Now we can operate properly."_

_Voudon was right. Granger did not approve of his superior or his methods. Fewer and fewer Jedi did. "I may have to report to you directly now, but my team still works for the Council. If you do anything to interfere with their mission….."_

"_You are still their leader, even if your padawan is the only one who knows it. They report to the Council. Nothing else is any different," Voudon's smirk did not change. "But before you go, you will need this." Voudon produced Granger's lightsaber from beneath the table._

_Granger tried to hide his enthusiasm as he took the saber from Voudon. He passed it through his hands several times before returning it to his belt. Although he rarely used the weapon, it felt good at his side. "I'll be in touch." Granger turned to exit the room and board his shuttle._

**Coming Soon: Jedi Posse 2**


End file.
